Behold Thy King

The kingdoms of this earth rise like great tides, swelling with pride and noise, only to slip back into the dirt from which they came. Their banners fade, their monuments crumble, and their rulers are carried away as swiftly as autumn leaves upon a restless wind. History is lined with the remnants of such powers, each once convinced of its permanence; each now reduced to scattered stones and forgotten names. Yet above this ceaseless procession of rising and falling stands a reign that does not weaken, a sovereignty untouched by time. Christ the King endures when all else is spent.

I often find my heart gazing ahead toward that enduring realm, for everything before me in this life bears the mark of passing. Accomplishments that once promised satisfaction dissolve into memory. Seasons of joy are carried off like flower petals in a flooded marsh. Even my own strength falters and renews and falters again. Nothing here holds steady. And so my soul learns, again and again, to seek what does not vanish. It learns to turn its longing toward the One whose presence is not bound to a season, whose beauty is not diminished by the turning of years.

Yet while I look toward that eternal kingdom, I find myself standing in the midst of time’s tempest. My thoughts are pulled between what has been and what may come, never fully at rest in the present hour. A single memory can draw me backward, a single fear can thrust me forward, and I am left drifting between them both, unable to settle. There are days when the very interior of my soul feels like a shoreline battered by waves, each thought rushing in only to retreat again with equal force. In such moments I sense the frailty of my own kingdom, the one built from hopes and fears and expectations that shift without warning.

It is here that Christ the King becomes my solace. His reign is the only firm ground beneath my feet. While my own heart trembles under the weight of change, His constancy is like a great stone tower rising untouched above the storm. He is eternal, while I remain a creature bound by time’s slow unraveling. Yet He does not stand aloof. Instead He invites every restless soul into the shelter of His dominion, calling us to fix our gaze not upon the flickering lights of earthly success but upon the steady radiance of His presence.

There will come a day when the turmoil within me grows quiet. His love will become the purifying fire that melts away all duplicity, all fear, all clinging to things that cannot last. I will no longer be torn between what was and what might be, for time itself will give way to the fullness of His unending life. On that day I shall sing to His praises with an undivided heart and behold His beauty with an uncluttered gaze.

Until then I remain a pilgrim moving through a world of fading empires. I admire their artistry, I learn from their triumphs and failures, but I do not rest my hope upon them. The only kingdom that will not be swallowed by time is the one hosted by Jesus the Nazarene. And so I lift my eyes beyond the passing shadows and strive toward the realm that stands when all others fall. Christ the King is my homeland, my horizon, and my eternal prize, the last kingdom standing when the world has grown silent.


I look forward, not to what lies ahead of me in this life and will surely pass away, but to my eternal goal. I am intent upon this one purpose, not distracted by other aims, and with this goal in view I press on, eager for the prize, God's heavenly summons. Then I shall listen to the sound of Your praises and gaze at Your beauty ever present, never future, never past. But now my years are but sighs. You, O Lord, are my only solace. You, my Father, are eternal. But I am divided between time gone by and time to come, and its course is a mystery to me. My thoughts, the intimate life of my soul, are torn this way and that in the havoc of change. And so it will be until I am purified and melted by the fire of Your love and fused into one with You. (St. Augustine, Confessions)

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