Master Craftsman of glory,
You give the pattern for the tabernacle itself
ten curtains of fine linen,
blue, purple, and scarlet yarn,
cherubim skillfully worked into the fabric.
Goat-hair curtains for a tent over them,
ram skins dyed red,
and outer coverings of durable leather.
Frames of acacia wood stand upright,
joined by crossbars,
overlaid with gold,
resting in silver bases
every detail measured,
every dimension exact.
The veil is woven,
marking the place of the Most Holy,
shielding the Ark and the mercy seat
from common sight.
The holy place is furnished with the table on one side,
the lampstand on the other,
each placed just where You say.
The entrance curtain is embroidered,
a threshold of beauty and reverence.
Lord, You show that holiness is layered
curtains upon coverings,
frames upon bases
not to keep us from You forever,
but to teach us the weight of drawing near.
Your dwelling is not haphazard;
it is precise, beautiful,
and unlike anything else in the camp.
Weave my life with the same care.
Lay the foundation of redemption,
overlay it with the gold of obedience,
and guard the holy place of my heart
with the veil of Your presence.
Yet I thank You that in Christ,
the veil has been torn from top to bottom,
opening the way to the holiest place.
Let me never treat that access as casual,
but as the costly privilege it is
purchased in blood,
given in grace.
In the name of Jesus,
our true Tabernacle
and the One who brings God near,
Amen.