Interwoven with Gold

My eyes look down and behold the shining garment now adorning me - clean, bright, and interwoven with gold - and I am overcome with tears of inexpressible joy. As I stand amidst the glorious throng of saints gathered together - the Lamb’s inheritance from every tongue and tribe - and as we await the glorious Wedding Supper of the Lamb, it is these costly garments that have my heart reeling. Reeling in awe over His kindness to redeem and draw near to Himself a weak one like me. Reeling over a love and mercy so extravagant that grafted me - one far off and without hope - into the nourishing root of the ancient tree. Reeling in tender gratitude and praise that He would not only redeem me but receive my love and life of faith as eternally precious to Him — indeed, part of His very inheritance. Reeling at how He remembered everything.

I trace my fingers over the embroidered strands of interwoven gold in this costly garment adorning me, weighty - not with generic beauty - but with unspeakable personal intimacy (Ps. 45:13). He took close and clasped to His heart my every tear and my every prayer and my every deed, like a treasure He’d searched the earth and all of history to find, and once found, kept safe forever (Ps. 56:8; Matt. 13:44-46). Never to be wasted. Never to be lost. Never to be forgotten or unaccounted for. And there I was, in all of those times - barely even believing in this holy exchange — so dim was my faith and so small was my confidence. Yet still, with that mustard seed sized faith, I lifted my love to the One that my eyes had never seen. When grieved by various trials, I committed my soul to His hand - that He might bring forth for Himself the genuineness of my faith, more precious than gold (1 Peter 1: 6-9).

These garments now tell that story, word for word and line by line, recounting the love and faith of all of my days with ink of gold, written with eternal weight into the wedding garment I will forever wear. How is it that I wear my love? My obedience? My tested faith? My righteous acts that God alone witnessed?

Each golden thread shines as a testament of the hidden thoughts, sacrifices, prayers, deeds, and godly words — each a memorial kept by the Watcher of the righteous who never withdraws His gaze (Ps. 45:13; Job 36:7). He forgot not a single affectionate act of my life, offered in faith and love, to the Beloved of my soul. I am most literally wrapped in intricate, loving knowing and history. And with every golden strand my finger traces, a story of my life in the age of faith flashes back in my memory. He remembered everything. That which I’ve long forgotten. That which I did not even consider as worth remembering.

The measure of His love and the impact of my love upon His holy heart so surpasses what my mind ever conceived of during my days in the age of faith. O that my faith had been greater, so as to see this Day for what it would actually be - so as to have lived each moment of my fleeting life even more purposefully and specifically for this Day of all days. Such small faith did I possess, beneath the firestorm of the dragon’s destructive narrative and the fog of my own wrestles and insecurities (Rev. 12:9). My breath is taken away by the great exchange — my weak love for His vast love and reward forever.

And as I stand in that glorious throng of the Lord’s inheritance of the saints - with golden personal history and sacred reward enwrapping me - my heart is settled forever in what had been such a wrestle for all of those days of the aching age: His pronouncement over my life - His, and His alone - matters. A thousand deaths had I died because of my fear of Him, greater than my fear of men. And a thousand tears had I cried for the grief and loss that came in the wake of many of those decisions. But in the end, His eyes, His statement, His assessment, and His opinion were worth more to me than all the rest. One anchor did hold when all the floods broke forth with waves and billows crashing over my soul. And now I see with all finality the wisdom of fearing Him alone - even when severely costly.

The Maker-Husband who never withdraws His gaze from the righteous is the Master Weaver, working my love and faith into an eternal garment - an eternal reward (Job 36:8; Eph. 2:10). My loyal love for Him, with faith coursing through its veins, even now moves in perfect synchronization with His steady hand, weaving the golden threads into the garment He prepares for me. It’s just a little while longer til I see Him. Til my eyes finally see the One whom having not seen, I love. Til what is hidden is made sight.

So today again, in the fog and amidst the world’s evil sway, I lift my eyes to the real Man who I know is seated on high —the Jewish Bridegroom King. I pledge my love with mustard seed size faith, on a day that the enemy rages and the arrows fly. On a day when opinions of men weigh like deadweights over my life and I can hardly get above the surface for a clean gulp of air. I know the Master Weaver watches me with heart on the line to see the way I will choose, to remember the love I will offer, and to memorialize that loving obedience to Him forever. For Him alone I live. He is my past. He is my present. He is my future. He is my Treasure and my Reward. And the wonder of wonders: He has sought and found the treasure of His glorious inheritance in even me. So precious does He count my acts of love, my deeds of faith, and thoughts and words offered in obedience, that He says, Charge Me with injustice if I forget even a singular labor of your life before Me. Forever, I will remember your love (Heb. 6:10; Song. 4:10).