i will come again.

heaviness weighed on their hearts. divine was in the room, in the flesh, in the present and the knowledge of his soon departure was troubling. one night they are eating dinner together and the next all of life would change forever. the story of humanity would never, could never, be the same.

this god-man, this maker of all, this friend would soon be gone. and he knew it. knew that these men surrounding him, doing life with him, would have to watch him be murdered. knew that life on earth with these friends had an expiration date.

he leaned in, into the hurt, into the pain, into the fear, into the doubt and spoke hope: "i am going to prepare a place for you." he said. "and if i go and prepare a place for you i will come again and receive you to myself."

there it was, the four words of promise, the four words of hallelujah: I. WILL. COME. AGAIN.

my soul knows good-byes too well. the fragility of life leaves me endlessly wandering when my last "good-bye" will be. when the last "good-bye" of the ones i love will be spoken.

and i may never know. life doesn't work like that; allowing you to see the future and preparing you for such outcomes.

but tucked in this account we find one promise, one truth, one certainty to cling to and prepare for: he will come again.

he will come, is coming, is preparing, is anticipating the day that he finally allows us to see him face to face. and soon we will live a life of no good-byes, no pain, no will-i-ever-see-them-agains.

let this hope anchor your soul.