There is an innate characteristic in each of us that craves worship. Our nature needs it. Each tiny molecule, knit together and formed by an eternal God, reflecting His glory and his stamp. Part of His creation, placed apart, separate. Made to love and be loved.
Sometimes when I look up at the night sky, at the Milky Way and the millions and wonders spun into motion, I am simply in awe. I feel tiny. The every day problems of my life don’t seem so important or overwhelming anymore, and I’m encompassed with gratitude that I have a Father who cares about every detail. It’s more than I can comprehend, and yet it brings me to my knees.
And the following Sunday when I enter the place where I gather with others who are filled with the same Spirit, I lift my hands and close my eyes and keep hearing the same word pulsating in my head over and over.
Thank you for loving me. For hearing me. For giving me the life I never deserved. For making the ultimate sacrifice and becoming my shame when You were perfect.
I will never stop worshipping You for it all. Forever my heart will sing your praise.