The Riders on White Horses

Taken from Revelation 19:11

I’m astride a magnificent white horse. His ears are alert and flicking as he strains to catch a sound. His pure white mane folded neatly to the left down his strong muscular neck, shoulders rippling as he paws the ground, ready. Beside me, on both sides, are more horses and riders, more as far as my eye can see. Infront too.

I’m sitting on an odd but comfortable saddle; it seems to hold me in place. It’s made of a hessian-type material and seems to be stuffed with something like sheep’s wool. My legs wrap around my horse, with my feet resting in stirrup-type shapes. In my hands, I am holding reins made of something like silk, soft and strong, for balance. I feel like I am not supposed to control this horse; he knows what he is doing. There’s no bit, just a rope headcollar fitting snuggly around his face.

I look down at my clothes; I am wearing brilliant white linen trousers and a white linen tunic. Each rider is wearing the same. The atmosphere around us seems to glow and shimmer with the brightness of the white outfits and white horses. I take a deep breath and am surprised by the fragrance that fills my nostrils; I was expecting the pungent horse smell mixed with polished leather that I am familiar with around horses. Instead, it is a heady mix of rich spices; I can pick out cinnamon, cardamon and cloves on top of an underlying scent of the most delicious flowers, jasmine, sweat peas and others that I can’t identify.

I notice that my tunic and trousers are light and thin, but I don’t feel cold or too hot. There is a glow of warmth all around. It seems to emanate from somewhere in front but fills me from the inside out, like warm oil poured over my head and flowing down my whole body, inside and out. Around me, I can hear the rustle of many people and a soft thudding as excited horses paw the ground. No one speaks; there is a quiet air of expectation.

I realise that all the horses are straining forward and pointing towards something up ahead, where the warmth and light seem to be coming from. I turn my attention that way, following the direction of their focus.

There, I see a stunningly magnificent white horse, larger than all the others. On his back is a rider like nothing I have ever seen before. His head and hair are white, like wool. He has a crown on his head that looks like it is made up of many crowns, dazzling and sparkling in the brightness. I have a sense that the crowns are gifts, gifts from us, his riders who follow him.  He is wearing a long white robe which is drenched in blood as if it has been dipped in it. His feet, below his robe, are glowing red like bronze in a furnace. I can just make out his hands holding the reins of his horse; they are rugged and scarred. The light shining from him is so bright that I can scarcely look at him.

He speaks a soft word to his horse. The horse wheels around to face us, and I drop back and gasp in awe. The magnificent rider’s eyes are blazing like fire. He is angry, yet I feel, not with us. The thousands and thousands of riders around me are silenced for a moment; we gaze intently, waiting in fear yet not afraid.

The rider begins to speak; his voice is like the roar of the rushing waters of the sea. He is speaking about victories already won, about truth, righteousness, peace and salvation. He is reminding us of our faith, which he authored, of the truths of binding that which is not from him and losing his wonderful presence. He is talking about light overcoming darkness, about oneness, unity and following him.

My heart is swelling with passion and devotion; all the atoms of my body are straining towards this magnificent rider. The air around vibrates and radiates out from his words, which cut the atmosphere like a sword doing battle in victory. All the riders around me are straining forward, focused intently on the rider in front. Our horses stand stock still, nostrils flaring, awaiting instruction, ready for the action that they know is coming.

In the distance, on the horizon, I spot a glowering cloud, heavy against all the light and brightness around us. The cloud is growing; we have all noticed it; we can now see below it, black figures moving towards us with great speed. Some around me shrink back, shoulders hunching, heads down. They recognise the black shapes. The rider in front turns to look at the approaching darkness, and instantly, he turns back to us; his huge, white horse, splendid in the shining brightness, rears up on its hind legs, pawing the air, mane flowing in a show of strength and authority. From the depths of the rider’s being, it exudes the most tremendous, terrifying, all-consuming roar.

The sound is tangible, it enters my body, strengthening me from the inside. My lungs fill with air as I roar in response along with thousands and thousands of others, our voices uniting and joining with our leader. Around me, those who had shrunk back leap forward, their backs up straight, heads aloft, eyes fixed on the rider in the front.

Turning to face the darkness, emitting another roar, which we reply to with our own roar, the rider in front shouts out firmly with the command to follow him. His horse springs to a gallop straight towards the darkness, and we all follow.

I grip hold of my horse’s mane, initial worry that I might slip off his back replaced with confidence as the saddle seems to keep my seat firm. As I look up, I can now see black figures on black beasts surrounded by a swirling darkness speeding closer and closer. Our leader does not falter; he picks up speed, and we keep close behind him, drawing closer in together, feeling the strength of the intensifying light around us.

The thundering of hooves is reverberating around us, the atmosphere charged.

We are so close now that I can see the black figures contorted and twisted beings, their darkness thickening; the smell of death and decay reaches my nose, and a chill brushes past me. They are almost upon us; I can see their eyes flashing with malicious intent, their mocking grins aiming to intimidate us as our leader forges straight ahead without flinching or turning to the left or to the right, galloping straight towards them.

Then, a triumphant shout pours forth from our leader, his commanding words cutting through the air as he reaches the leader of the darkness. It disintegrates, evaporating into the ground and melting away. We continue to ride forward, face to face now with the dark beings as they gallop towards us but faltering as they see that we don’t flinch, keeping our eyes fixed on our leader and turning away from their attempts to mock us. Their mocking turns to horror as they begin to realise that we are not going to stop.

As we enter the dark cloud, instead of it enveloping us, as I had expected, the bright light around us and emanating from us banishes the darkness. The dark riders melt away; light fills the space as we ride on, defeating the darkness and bringing light.

The chill that came with the dark riders is overcome by the warmth of the light and brightness around us; the stench recedes; no longer can I smell decay but instead the sweet scent of spring rain, of new life, growth, of life and the promise of flourishing.

Our rider slows his horse and turns to face us, triumph and victory on his face. With pride and joy, he scans our faces, taking in thousands and thousands yet focusing on the one. He commends us for our victory, our bravery and courage, and our ability to unite and focus on him. The brightness of the light shining from him and being sourced in him and from thousands and thousands of us together defeated the darkness and destruction planned for us by the dark enemy.

We all sit taller, bodies vibrating with the strength and power of his words to us. Our hearts and minds know that when the next battle comes, when we see darkness on the horizon, we will gather up our reins, urge our horses forward, follow our leader ahead, keeping our eyes fixed on him and know that ours is the victory.