Day 258 · Tuesday, September 15
"Then the glory of the LORD went out from the threshold of the house, and stood over the cherubim."EZEKIEL 10:18
Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 258, The Glory Departs.
"Then the glory of the LORD went out from the threshold of the house, and stood over the cherubim." Ezekiel 10:18.
This is one of the saddest scenes in all of Scripture, and I need you to feel the weight of it with me for a moment. The temple was the one place on the face of the earth where God's visible presence dwelt among a people. It wasn't just a symbol — it was the very center of Israel's identity. And now, after chapter upon chapter of idolatry, of detestable practices carried out inside its own sacred courts, it has come to this: the glory rises and begins to leave.
Notice it isn't a sudden exit. A few verses earlier, the glory rested over the cherubim inside the sanctuary. Here, it moves to the threshold — the doorway itself. Later in the chapter, it will pause over the east gate of the temple. It is a departure in stages, almost reluctant, as though God is giving His people one more chance, one more moment, before leaving for good.
And why does it leave? Not on a whim. Not because of some emotional God giving up out of nowhere. It's the direct consequence of what the previous chapters described — images of idolatry planted inside the temple itself, a people who defiled the most sacred place they had. God doesn't abandon by accident; He withdraws from what has been persistently defiled, without repentance, without change.
This makes me think of something important: God's glory does not force itself on anyone. He does not invade a space that continually rejects Him. His presence is a gift — something offered, not something guaranteed forever regardless of how we treat it. And a heart, a home, a life that keeps rejecting that presence, even after repeated warnings, may in fact watch it walk away.
But listen to something that comforts me deeply: the same Ezekiel who describes this painful departure will, later in his book, prophesy the glorious return of that very presence to a restored temple. The vision ends with hope, not final abandonment. God's departure is never His last word over His people — it is a call to repentance, a pause before restoration.
So I need to ask you, with all the care in the world: is there some space in your life where God's presence has been, little by little, pushed out? Maybe it's not a temple made of stone — maybe it's your routine, your home, your heart, a place once devoted to Him that today is crowded with other things.
Today I want to invite you to examine that honestly. Choose one space — it could be a habit, a slot in your day, an area of your heart — and set aside one concrete moment to invite God's presence back into that place. Don't wait for it to leave for good.
Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.