Think for a minute on the sober reality that one day very soon, the credits of your life will roll and you will stand alone before God as Judge. You will have nothing in your hands. You will not be able to point your finger and blame this person or that disadvantage. You will not be able to empty your pockets and show records of your tithing or church attendance. You will not have a world map available to mark every country in which you built a well. It will not matter if everyone on earth revered you as a philanthropic world-changer. All that will matter on the cusp of eternity is how God views you.
You lift up your head and lock eyes with the Judge. His gaze overwhelms you with the colors of holiness, and now, maybe more than ever before, you understand just how small you are in comparison to Him. You are asked to give an account for your life. Rushing through the first decade or so, you finally get to the part when you were eighteen and listened to that sermon from a pastor in Texas. That was when your eyes were opened and, long story short, you trusted Jesus for your salvation. The Judge smirks and waves his hand for you to continue.
You tell him about the nights you spent on your knees, begging for wisdom. You talk about all the adventures and connections, moments of faith and moments of doubt. Countless celebrations, weddings, birthdays, and memories flash before your eyes. Clear as day, you see how every second of your life- every fiber of your being- shouted hallelujah after all. You cry out, Nothing in my hands I bring, only to the cross I cling, as the old hymn goes. Everything is accounted for and your eternity is staked on the love of Jesus, on the love of the Judge himself.
His gavel drops and thunder runs through your body. Accompanied by the roaring celebration of angels and saints, your life truly begins:
"Well done, my good and faithful servant."
This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read.
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