I wanna be the person I am during worship on Sunday mornings at church.
There aren't many times during the week when I feel more right, alive, at peace, and overflowing with joy and love.
Singing from the depths, somewhere in between crouched humility and exalted triumph, all is right with the world. Why wouldn't it be? The God of the universe. Yes, the ONE who made it all. Loves me. Chased me down. Sacrificed for me. And invites me to live in the most intimate relationship with Him.
And it makes me a better person. Or at least makes me want to be a better person.
Ben is standing next to me. I wonder how he feels, like I've wondered about all his siblings who've come before him. What does he think about his mom standing here singing her heart out in rhapsody? The same mom he knows better than most. The mom that yells at him, is impatient, grumpy, and says sorry all the time but not as much as she should. I'm tempted to feel like a hypocrite.
But this isn't about me. If it were, if all this noise was about how good or spiritual I am, I'd be the first to scream "FRAUD!!!" But instead my faults only feed the glory of this beautiful exchange. Forgiveness for sin, grace for failure, beauty for ashes.
How do I sustain this mindset through the week and the conflicts and mess? Is it possible? God doesn't live here in church. His Spirit is with me, in me all the time. My mind and heart need only to turn toward Him and focus. Focus on all I remember about Him on Sunday mornings during worship and respond the way I do then. With thanks and praise.
So I sing louder. And Ben sings beside me.
This is grace.
"For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-suprassing power is from God and not from us."
- 2 Corinthians 4:7
Linking with L.L . .
Laura . .
. . and Jennifer
Labels: thoughts on cracked pots