We Are the Bride of Christ

It began quietly, the way the holiest moments often do—without spectacle, without announcement. I was listening to praise music, letting the familiar melodies soften the edges of my morning, to soak into me, when worship slipped past words and became presence. My body relaxed onto the ground beneath me, and my spirit grew attentive, alert in that gentle way that knows something sacred is approaching.

That is when I sensed Him approaching me. Desiring closeness with me. 

I saw Jesus wanting to have a picnic with me—an intimate gesture, the way someone who loves you chooses nearness simply because they can. I was lying on the ground, when He came and covered me with a beautiful cloth. It was gauzy linen threaded with wide bands of satin, light and luminous, soft as breath against skin. He lay under the tent of fabric with me, speaking easily, familiarly, like old friends. There was laughter in the conversation, comfort, history—nothing forced, nothing hurried.

Then He shifted, rolling the fabric with Himself around me, wrapping me gently, reverently, again and again, until I was cocooned within it—my head and feet still visible, my body held. It felt safe, caring. And then He stood me up, and the cloth became a perfectly fit garment.

The wide satin formed the cuffs at my arms, the collar at my neck, the hem at my feet. The rest flowed like living linen—golden, honey-colored, iridescent, as if light itself had learned how to drape. It moved with me, breathed with me. Alive. And He said, simply and unmistakably, that I was clothed in His righteousness. A new garment of His grace. 

And Scripture echoed what my spirit already knew:

“I delight greatly in the LORD… for He has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of His righteousness, as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.”
—Isaiah 61:10

Then the vision shifted.

I was in the throne room of God.

Light poured from everywhere and nowhere at once, not harsh, not blinding, but living—responsive. Christ and I were dancing together, surrounded by witnesses, though I was hardly aware of them. The atmosphere itself felt hushed, reverent, as though all of heaven leaned forward to watch.

Our movements flowed together in effortless harmony, guided by a shared knowing. The dance unfolded as a living expression of communion—fluid, responsive, alive. It was worship carried in the body, shaped by joy and familiarity, where awareness rested fully on that and movement flowed without thought.

Our garments were alike in essence—golden, luminous, woven of light and grace—though each unique in form. He radiated authority and gentleness. I radiated freedom and joy. We twirled. We laughed. We moved as if we had always known each other.

Then Jesus stepped back, because He delighted in watching me.

I continued to dance, twirling and dancing, fabric unfurling like flame and honey at once. I was caught up entirely in His presence, unconcerned with who watched, unaware of anything except the joy of being in His presence. And no one could look away because of how His love had been made visible.

Suddenly, it hit me, this was the fulfillment of a promise written long ago:

“Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and His bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.”
—Revelation 19:7–8 

This had been a wedding - I was the bride of Christ. I clearly understood that he wanted each of us to be his bride, not just collectively, but independently as well. A deeply personal relationship with each one of us. 

The next day, as I reflected on all of this, another memory surfaced—quiet at first, then luminous with meaning.

About a month earlier, I had gotten up in the morning and reached for my usual athleisure wear, when Jesus spoke clearly to my spirit: “Put on real clothes. You are going to town.” It surprised me. I hadn’t planned to go anywhere, and what I was about to wear would have been far too light for the cold. Still, I listened. I dressed and got ready.

I remembered thinking about winter coats being on clearance, so I went to the mall. I found nothing. Then, unexpectedly, I decided to go to another store. Again, nothing. I was about to head home when the Lord reminded me of an antique store I had once wanted to visit—just around the corner.

Inside, my attention was drawn to the jewelry. The rings in particular.

There, I found it—a beautiful ring with a large turquoise-colored stone set in silver. It was like nothing I have ever seen. Something in it felt chosen. I held it and the Lord whispered, "it came from love". I bought it and had it sized. Weeks later, I picked it up, grateful but unaware of what it truly meant.

This morning, as I was blow-drying my hair, a simple thought passed through me: I should wear my new ring today. And then it hit me with sudden clarity that left me breathless.

The Bride of Christ.

He got me a ring.

And all at once, the garment, the dance, the picnic—everything aligned. This was not symbolic affection. This was covenant intimacy. Not distant reverence, but chosen closeness. Not a general love for humanity, but a personal desire—Jesus wanting me, knowing me, delighting in relationship with me.

I have been praying to know Christ better. To be His friend. And for Him to be mine.

And He answered—not with abstraction, but with presence.

“Christ loved the Church and gave Himself up for her… to present her to Himself radiant, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish.”
—Ephesians 5:25–27

This encounter was rare not because it was inaccessible, but because it was unguarded. It was about His desire to be with me. To wrap me. To clothe me. To dance with me. To mark me as His.

This is the heart of the Bridegroom.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock… I will come in and eat with you, and you with Me.”
—Revelation 3:20

A picnic.
A garment.
A ring.
A dance.

He desires relationship with us not as subjects, but as beloved. Not as servants only, but as bride. Not at arm’s length, but face to face.

And in His presence, we will be clothed in His righteousness.