Today the unthinkable happens in slow motion: the glory of the LORD lifts from the temple, pauses at the threshold, moves to the east gate, hesitates, and finally rises from the city to the mountain beyond.

It reads like a lover leaving a house room by room, reluctant at every doorway. Judgment was coming, and God dragged His feet on the way out. Remember that about Him.

The glory's exit route is the most hopeful map in Ezekiel. Every pause, threshold, gate, mountain, was an opening for repentance that never came, and even mid-departure God was promising hearts of flesh to exiles in Babylon. He leaves slowly and returns eagerly. That is His documented pattern.

Hebrews anchors the certainty: God swore by Himself, two unchangeable things, impossible to lie, so hope holds like an anchor behind the curtain. Whatever distance you currently feel from God, read the direction of the traffic honestly. He lingers at doors we slam. And the stone-to-flesh transplant remains His favorite surgery.