I saw it…
Not with my eyes, but with my spirit.
A vision too holy for words, too glorious for time.
The gates of heaven stood open — not guarded, but welcoming.
And from beyond them came a sound,
not noise,
but worship —
pure, unending, alive.
There, in the center, was a throne.
Not like any throne on earth —
this one pulsed with light,
radiated holiness,
and sat upon it… the Lamb,
Jesus, clothed in glory and wrapped in eternity.
All around Him were voices — millions upon millions —
not divided by language, color, or tribe,
but united in one anthem:
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty,
who was, and is, and is to come.”
I saw angels — not floating gently, but burning with reverence.
Their wings covered their faces as they cried out in awe.
I saw the elders —
casting down crowns they once wore,
because no reward mattered compared to the One on the throne.
And then… I heard a song.
Not sung with lips alone,
but with hearts, with souls, with the very breath of heaven.
It was worship without end.
Not because they were told to —
but because they couldn’t help it.
There, pain was gone.
Tears forgotten.
Time… meaningless.
And still the worship went on.
Every note was a flame.
Every voice, a wave.
And in the center of it all — Jesus —
smiling, reigning, loving, receiving every sound as an offering of joy.
And I stood there, undone.
Not as a spectator… but as invited.
Because one day, we won’t just dream of heaven’s worship —
we’ll join it.
Until then,
let our songs echo what is already happening above.
Let our worship be a whisper of what’s to come.
The choir is waiting.
And the throne is still occupied.
