**The Multitude Before the Throne**
The heavens trembled with a holy silence, as though creation itself held its breath. The winds ceased their howling, the seas stilled their roaring, and even the stars seemed to pause in their courses. The Lamb stood upon the throne, His presence radiating glory that outshone the sun, His eyes burning with divine fire. Around Him, the four living creatures—covered in eyes before and behind—sang without ceasing, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” The twenty-four elders, crowned in gold, cast their crowns before the throne, their voices joining the unending chorus of worship.
Then, from the east, an angel ascended, clothed in garments of purest white, his face ablaze like the dawn. In his hand, he held a golden seal, the mark of the Living God. With a voice like thunder, he cried out to the four angels who stood at the corners of the earth, restraining the tempests of judgment.
**“Do not harm the earth, the sea, or the trees until we have sealed the servants of our God on their foreheads!”**
At once, the angels released their hold on the winds, and a great stillness fell. Another angel, mightier than the first, rose from the midst of the throne’s radiance. He carried a scroll, inscribed with the names of those chosen before the foundation of the world.
**“One hundred and forty-four thousand,”** he declared, **“sealed from every tribe of Israel.”**
And so the sealing began: Twelve thousand from Judah, lion-hearted and royal; twelve thousand from Reuben, once unstable but now steadfast; twelve thousand from Gad, warriors marked for the Lamb’s army. Tribe by tribe, the chosen were sealed—Asher, Naphtali, Manasseh, Simeon, Levi, Issachar, Zebulun, Joseph, and Benjamin. Each bore the name of the Father upon their brows, a sign of divine ownership, a promise of preservation through the coming storm.
But then—oh, then—the vision expanded, and John beheld what no mortal tongue could fully describe.
Before the throne, beyond count or measure, stood a multitude so vast it stretched from horizon to horizon. They were robed in white, their garments washed in the blood of the Lamb. Their faces shone with a radiance not of this world, their voices lifted in a thunderous anthem:
**“Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”**
The elders and the living creatures fell prostrate, their worship rising like incense. And one of the elders turned to John, his eyes filled with wonder.
**“Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?”**
John, overcome, could only whisper, **“Sir, you know.”**
The elder smiled, his voice trembling with joy.
**“These are the ones who have come out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, they are before the throne of God day and night, serving Him in His temple. And He who sits on the throne will shelter them with His presence. Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their Shepherd, and He will guide them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”**
And as the vision faded, the song of the redeemed echoed through eternity, a chorus of triumph, a hymn of deliverance—testifying that though the earth may shake and kingdoms fall, those who are sealed by God shall stand forever in His glory.
