The Old Testament's last prophet hands the torch directly to the Gospels' first page.
Read the verse in full at Blue Letter Bible (ESV).
The first taste — one dip, the whole day.
Malachi closes the prophetic canon with a courier's announcement: 'Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me. And the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple.' Four centuries of silence follow — then a voice in the wilderness, in the spirit and power of Elijah, and shortly after, the Lord himself walking into his own temple with a whip of cords. Malachi's final image is dawn: the sun of righteousness rising with healing in its wings.
Promise and fulfillment — every claim linked for verification.
Jesus settles the identification himself: John is the promised messenger (Matt 11:10), the Elijah who was to come (Matt 17:10–13). Zechariah's song calls the child 'the sunrise from on high' (Luke 1:78).
'Messenger, angel' — Malachi's own name means 'my messenger.' The book stacks them: the courier (John), 'the messenger of the covenant' (the Lord himself), each arriving on schedule after four hundred silent years.
Deepest water — where the passage meets your week.
Four hundred years between Malachi's promise and John's voice — and not one syllable of the promise expired. Silence is not absence; between the testaments God was moving empires, roads, languages, and a fullness of time into place (Gal 4:4). If heaven has been quiet over some request of yours, Malachi's counsel is the last verse of the Old Testament era: the sunrise is scheduled.