Isaiah 35:

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus; it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God.

Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, “Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.”

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy. For waters break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; in the haunt of jackals, where they lie down, the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

And a highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Way of Holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it. It shall belong to those who walk on the way; even if they are fools, they shall not go astray. No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it; they shall not be found there; but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

~ ~ ~

Trumpets echo over the desert, proclaiming the name of the Lord of Hosts for the dirt and the sand. Not a drop of water in sight, yet at the sound, the ground explodes with green life, dormant seeds coming alive at the name of their Creator. The grasses grew around the outline of a white road, and by the time the trumpet players arrived, they walked into a full jungle—swept with hundreds of streams and brooks. Rejoicing, they knelt by the waters and drank as if the welling springs—sand mere moments before—were themselves an instrument of pleasure.

Arising once more, they lifted their trumpets and bowed to the radiant figure walking around and beside them, lifting a hand to salute their King as He passed. Then, lifting their instruments again, they played. Singers marched beside them, yet their song had become a medley of shouts and laughter and off-key screeches and beautifully strung sopranos. The cacophony of noise echoed about the hills and caterwauled through the jungles, so that even the animals joined in, adding their song to what counted for a melody among the King’s children.

The parade continued. Those were once lame now leapt like a deer, and those who had been mute sang beautifully. Reeds and rushes came up around them on every edge of the road, and the gathered children ran in and around them, laughing as they rolled in their softness. Together, they delighted in the shade from the sweeping trees.

Each looked as if they had journeyed far—weathered by various conditions and now-healed maladies—yet not one person suffered. Even the aged laughed and shouted like the children, giggling together with the freedom of their youth. Some even skipped, turning and dancing about as if they could not restrain themselves a moment longer—as if something within them had finally been set free.

Ahead in the neighboring jungle, a lion roared in response to the trumpets, a terrible sound, yet the parade did not halt, nor even pause in fear. It carried on triumphantly, and when the lion appeared around the bend of the white road, not even the children cried out, for there was no fear to be found.

Instead, they chanted as one, “Be strong; fear not! Behold your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.”

The lion roared again, settling back onto its haunches to stalk the road, and seeing one of the little ones was lagging behind the others, he snarled and leapt towards it. Yet, as if an invisible boundary protected the road, the lion fell short against the road’s edges. It cried in pain, nursing a wounded paw.

It limped away, and the Protected renewed their shouts of praise and thanksgiving, rejoicing in the one who had rescued and redeemed them, setting them on the path of righteousness. When other attackers lingered, attempting to snipe them off the road, none reigned victorious, and still the parade marched on.

When it had traveled far, the road wound from desolate deserts to a city filled with desolate hearts. Hundreds of people crowded about the road, reaching out with awe, wondering at the green growth sprouting from the sands beneath them, the singing, the laughter, the freedom.

Yet when they tried to join the others on the road, they found themselves stopped the same way the lion had been. Most turned away in dismay. Others resented the parade. Some longed for the road and the safety it provided.

However, only one remained to ask. He followed the parade as far as he could, finally managing to get the attention of the group near the back. “Pray tell me, why do you sing so?” he asked.

The woman who turned must have been ancient, yet her face shone like the stars. She bounded towards him, eager in her delight. “My son, we have been ransomed! We head home to Zion victorious, walking the Way of Holiness!”

“You were slaves?”

“To the evil within us,” she asserted. The young man puzzled over the idea.

“Who saved you?” he asked.

“Our Father, our Redeemer, Our Rescuer, the One who knit us together in our mothers’ wombs. The One who has known us and perfected us. The One who writes our story!” Her praise continued, and a strange thing began to happen. As she lifted up the name of her Savior, her voice joined the song that echoed about her, and the ebullience swept also through the young man.

The lion roared again, and the man flinched. “I want to go with you.” He tried to step onto the road, but he could not. “How can I join you?”

The woman grinned, and though she lacked her front teeth, he had never felt more alive than in the face of it. “The unclean shall not pass on this highway. It belongs only to those who walk on the Way, and none shall go astray upon it. The Redeemed will walk here and the Ransomed of the Lord. And my son, you must be made clean.”

The young man looked up and around, soon noting a spring that had just sprung up, still bubbling. As the trumpeters knelt to drink, he ran forwards. “I want to be clean!” he shouted, diving into the water. He scrubbed at his skin, ran his hands through his hair, throwing back the water, until the droplets cascading into his eyes were replaced by a set kinder than any he had seen.

The face he peered into glowed, and he knew he had found the King.

“My son, will you let me save you?”

The man nodded.

“Will you let me transform you through my love?”

He nodded again, scarcely able to look at the One before him.

“Will you follow me?” And with those words, he saw the magnitude of the decision. It would take everything from him. He would need every bit of strength he could muster for the journey ahead, and it wouldn’t be enough. But when he faltered, the King would carry him forward again.

He said yes, barely more than mouthing the words, then again, a triumphant shout that echoed as loudly as any of the others.

Then the King smiled and swept him into a hug. It hadn’t been what he’d imagined being clean would feel like, but it transformed him. Hundreds of layers fell away, leaving him feeling as if he had just been born—as if he had been dead and was now alive. When he pulled away from the King, he too had become radiant.

He leaped forward to step upon the road, but the King lifted a hand to stop him. Confused and dismayed, the young man looked up into that kindly face and asked, “But I don’t understand? Don’t I get to walk the Way of Holiness too?”

And the King smiled and said, “Yes, you will. But it is not yet your time. Go now and tell the others in your home of who I am and listen for the Spirit to come to you. And then, when it is your time, I will come to find you, and we will march on this road together—you and I—as we journey home.”

With a final clasp about the back, the King smiled and strode onward, the singers and dancers falling into place around Him. The young man watched for a long moment, yearning with something he could not discern, before turning and racing back to his home to tell everyone of the love and joy he had witnessed.