I love the Rhema word. Oh, how I treasure those divine whispers that pierce through time and space—those moments when the written Logos becomes alive and personal. But I’ve come to understand something sacred: Rhema flows from the well of the Logos. It is in the consistent reading, the quiet meditation, the daily devotion that the Spirit breathes fresh life into familiar passages.
This morning, as I opened You Version Bible’s devotional, the verse read: “Behold, your King comes to you.” Instantly, I recognized its original context—Jesus entering Jerusalem, fulfilling prophecy, moving toward the cross with divine determination. But in that moment, the Holy Spirit whispered something deeper. Something personal. Something for me.
I knew it was about my husband.
Yes, I understand theologically that this Scripture speaks of the Messiah’s journey to fulfill His redemptive mission. But I also know the voice of my Shepherd—and this morning, He spoke directly to my waiting heart. He reminded me that singleness is not my final destination. It was a season. It was preparation. But it was never the calling.
He said: Your King is coming.
Not just any man—but a king. My king. And the Scripture described him so clearly: gentle, humble, noble. A ruler of quiet strength. Not arrogant, but confident. Not self-serving, but servant-hearted. A man molded by God. A complete man. A ready man. A made man.
And as I sat with that word, something stirred in me—a longing, yes, but also a holy assurance. A stillness. A knowing.
So, Lord, I thank You. Thank You for still speaking. For reminding me that You see me, that You know me, that You care enough to whisper hope into the dry places of my heart. Thank You for saying “Behold,” because that word tells me to look, to watch, to expect. It means he’s already on his way.
I pray for a beholding spirit—eyes that truly see, a heart that is awake and ready, a soul that does not miss what You are doing. I don’t want to overlook him because of distraction or discouragement. And yet, I trust You enough to know I won’t miss him. Your grace is sufficient for me. You’ve already declared it: Behold, your King comes to you.
Doubt may scream, “You’ve said this before.”
Fear may whisper, “It will never happen.”
Weariness may try to convince me, “You’re just imagining things.”
But I silence those voices with the voice of Truth.
I speak to every trace of unbelief and say: vacate my mind, vacate my spirit, vacate my porch—because the King is coming.
I receive him, Lord. I receive the promise. I receive the Rhema.
I receive my gentle giant. I receive my humble ruler.
I receive my husband in the name of Jesus Christ.
And even if today is not the day of arrival, it is the day of assurance.
Today is the day I declare with mustard-seed faith:
My King is coming.
This mountain of prolonged waiting, of deferred hope, of lingering sorrow—
It is moving in Jesus’ name.
Amen.
Wells of Wonder 