I was listening to CeCe Winans’ “Come Jesus, Come” the other day,
and something in me broke.
Not in despair
but in longing.

“Come Jesus, come
We’ve been waiting so long
For the day You return
To heal every hurt and right every wrong…”

Before I could even process why, tears slipped down my face. My soul understood. My heart felt it.

Because yes – I am saved. I am redeemed. I am grateful. I am not lukewarm. I am unapologetically a child of God, with one mission: to know Him and to make Him known. I believe His promises, and I trust His Word.

But sometimes?
I just miss Him.
I desire Him.
I crave Him – Jesus, my Lord, my Love, my Friend, my King.

I miss the days when my faith felt weightless.
I miss the awe that filled the room when we prayed like children.
I miss the purity, the fire, the trembling awareness of His nearness.
I miss sitting with believers who sharpened me and encouraged me, as Paul wrote in Romans, “that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith” (Romans 1:12).

And in a world that feels darker by the hour,
my heart joins the cry of the Spirit and the Bride:

“Come, Lord Jesus.” – Revelation 22:17, 20

We are not the first to feel this ache.

Creation has groaned since Eden (Romans 8:22).
The prophets cried out, “Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1)
The psalmists begged, “How long, O Lord?” (Psalm 13:1)

And in the silence of centuries,
God answered – not with thunder,
but with a baby in a manger.

Jesus came.

And then He promised, “I will come again…” (John 14:3)
Not just as Savior – this time, as King.

But what about now?

Now, we wait.
Now, we worship.
Now, we fellowship.
Now, we spread the gospel unashamedly, “for it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16).
Now, we live for Him.
Now, we abide in His presence.

And we live in the tension of the “already” and the “not yet.”
We’ve seen His power, but we long for His final victory.
We’ve heard His voice, but we ache to see His face.

 “Though you have not seen Him, you love Him” (1 Peter 1:8).

And in that longing, our song rises:
Come, Jesus, come.

But not everyone understands this kind of longing.

I have been asked,
“Don’t you want to get married?”
“Don’t you want to enjoy your money?”
“Don’t you want to have children, build your life, reach more people?”

And the answer is yes, I do.
I long for those things. I treasure them.
But none of them compare to Him.

Because the longing for Jesus is different.
It doesn’t cancel dreams – it purifies them.
It doesn’t neglect purpose – it anchors it.

It says, “Lord, I’ll steward all You’ve given me… but nothing, absolutely nothing, satisfies like You.”

I don’t want to escape life.
I want to see it fully redeemed – by the One who is coming again.

And maybe you’re reading this and thinking,
“I don’t feel that kind of longing.”
And friend, I get it.

It’s completely understandable – especially if you’re not saved or have become a lukewarm prodigal son.
Maybe you know about Jesus, but He’s not the Lord of your life.
And deep down, you know the consequences. You know you’re not ready if He came today.
But you can be. Right now.

And maybe you are saved… yet His presence feels distant.

You try. You show up. But it’s dry.

Five minutes in prayer feels more like duty than delight, more like checking a box than meeting a Friend.

But don’t let the dryness deceive you – He is near, still longing for you to draw near.

This is your gentle call to remember, return, and rekindle.

But here’s a question to wrestle with gently, not with shame – just honesty:

If you don’t enjoy spending five minutes with God now…
Will you enjoy eternity with Him?

“With the Lord, a day is like a thousand years…” – 2 Peter 3:8

Eternity is not just long.
It’s forever.
Unending.
And it’s with Him.

And that does not make me afraid – it makes me squeal with excitement.

Endless presence. Endless joy. Endless glory.

What about you?

Does that thought stir your soul… or scare it?
Because how you feel about forever might just reveal how you’re walking today.

If your heart is aching, beloved
if the weight feels unbearable
if the world feels too broken

You’re not faithless.
You’re homesick.

And your longing is holy.

Because deep inside, your spirit knows and remembers:
This isn’t the end.
This isn’t home.
He’s coming.
And He’ll wipe every tear from every eye. (Revelation 21:4)

But maybe…
maybe you’re not sure if you’re ready.
Maybe you’ve heard about Jesus, but you’ve never met Him.
Maybe you’re reading this, and your heart is beating faster right now.
That is not mere emotion. That is an invitation.

The same Jesus we are crying out to
is also crying out for you.

Come, Jesus… into my heart.

If you’ve never surrendered your life to Him,
if you’ve been walking far, or just numb and unsure,
this is your moment.

Not a performance.
Not a checklist.
Just a prayer. A turning. A surrender.

Pray this with me:

Jesus, I believe You came… and I believe You’re coming again.
But today, I ask You to come into my heart.
Forgive me. Cleanse me. Make me new.
I don’t want to do life without You. I want to follow You. Know You. Belong to You. Love you and long for your coming.
So here I am, heart open. Come, Jesus… come.

If you prayed that, welcome home.
Heaven rejoices. And so do I.

Because now, when you sing “Come Jesus, come,”
you’re not just echoing a song.
You’re singing to your Savior. Your Friend. Your King.And one day soon…
He’ll come again. For you. For me. For us – His Delight!