Hungry for God: Sometimes I'm Too Busy to Worship

I took a different approach to my quiet time today.

I set aside my prayer list,

my Bible,

my watch,

and my agenda,

and I determined to spend my time sitting at the foot of the cross.

I usually come to the cross empty and leave full. I come into my quiet time intending to take something away. A promise from scripture, peace over a prayer concern, or wisdom for a problem.

Today I determined instead that I was going to give something to God.

One of the few things I have that God desires is worship. Psalm 22:3 says that He inhabits the praises of His people.

In the back of my prayer journal, I keep words to several praise songs, so I turned there. . . past my list of requests for my husband, my daughters, myself, my family, my friends, our youth group, our church family, waaaaaaay to the back.

Determined to give something back to God, I sang my way through How Deep the Father's Love Toward Us, thinking about my less than beautiful voice and how poor my breath control was.

I sang my way through Mighty to Save remembering that our youth group likes to sing this in Sunday School.

By the first stanza of the third song, my scattered brain finally caught up with the purpose of my heart.

When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died . . .

my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.

See, from His head, His hand, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down.

Did 'ere such love and sorrow meet? Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Scenes from The Passion of the Christ flashed across my memory. Jesus, whose only crime was loving a sinful, wicked world, hangs there, blood and sweat mingled together tracing trails through the dust on His face. Jesus, face distorted by pain, lifting His eyes toward heaven, crying "Father, forgive them. . . " Jesus, beaten for me, bearing the crushing load of my sin-debt.

Oh, the wonderful cross, oh, the wonderful cross

Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live.

"Unless a kernel of wheat fall to the ground and die, it cannot bear fruit."

"I beseech you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God. This is your spiritual act of worship."

Oh, the wonderful cross, Oh, the wonderful cross

All who gather near, by faith draw near and bless Your name. . . .

In my heart, I see myself approaching the rocky hill, stumbling over the stones, scraping my hands as I fall prostrate at the foot of the cross -- a living sacrifice--frightened, hesitant, but willing, clinging by faith to the rough wood

as a single

red

drop

falls from the cross

and lands on my face,

linking me forever with the one who died for me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were an offering far too small.

Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul,

my life,

my all.

" Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

(Heb. 12:2)

"I have been crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."

(Galatians 2:20)

"Nothing in my hands I bring, simply to thy cross I cling."

Worship.