Yet another article from Boundless Webzine. This one relates very well my opinion on the DTR conversation and other relationship things as well. Enjoy!
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Real Men Risk Rejection
by Michael Lawrence
My senior year in college, I met a girl that blew me away. She was beautiful. She shared my passion for ministry. She shared my theology and understanding of the local church. And I suspected we had a lot of other things in common as well. We had lunch to talk about some areas of ministry we were both involved in on campus. A few days later I saw her again at our campus prayer meeting. I told her how much I enjoyed our lunch, and that we should do it again.
And then it hit me. That cold, gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. A weakness in my limbs, a dryness in my mouth. You know what I'm talking about. Fear. Powerful, primal, inescapable, fear.
I saw her often — at prayer meeting, our IVCF meetings, around campus. But all I could muster at those chance encounters (and some not so chance encounters!) was an earnest "We should do lunch again some time," followed by awkward avoidance of actually setting it up.
Thankfully, she had mercy on me. She took the initiative and found an excuse to set up a meeting. I was in charge of small group Bible studies on campus and she was leading one. So she could pull it off without too much trouble. Once again we had a great time. Once again, at the end of the lunch, I suggested we should get together again. And once again, fear gripped me and I failed to act.
Unbeknownst to me, she had already confided in her friends that she liked me, but wasn't going to bail me out again. If anything was going to happen, I was going to have to step up to the plate, initiate, and define the relationship. In short, I was going to have to be a man and lead.
It took a while, and she began to think I'd never do it. But a month or so later, I managed to initiate a conversation at our annual fall beach retreat. When we got back to campus, we took a walk one evening. I told her many of the things I liked about her, how much I enjoyed being with her, and that I wanted us to date exclusively. I'm not sure what we called it back then, but in today's parlance, I had finally had the DTR — Define The Relationship
It wasn't the last difficult stage in our dating relationship, nor was it the last time I was nearly paralyzed with fear. But nearly 17 years of marriage later, I am so thankful that Adrienne found that excuse for a second lunch. Had she not, I'm not sure we ever would have made it to the DTR, or the altar!
A Small Talk That's Not Just Small Talk
So why is it that guys like me and you tend to wait so long to have the talk? After all, chances are, you've already talked quite a few times. You like talking to her. That's why you want to have the conversation. But this conversation isn't like all the others. Even if it's just the initials DTR, there's a whole lot more riding on the outcome than whether or not you start dating. Your entire self-image is on the line.
Basically it comes down to what the Bible calls the fear of man. It can take many different forms. Maybe we don't want to risk her rejection, because we've invested a lot of ourselves in what she thinks of us. Maybe we don't want to risk failure, because our self-image is wrapped up in success, including relational success. Maybe we don't want to risk the ridicule of the guys, who'll tease us for not landing someone "better." Maybe we don't want to risk commitment, because we fear being that exposed to another person.
Whatever form it takes, fear of man causes me to avoid doing anything that puts me at risk, and that includes the DTR. Instead, I either wait for a risk-free scenario (like pumping her friends for information to find out how she'll respond), or I manipulate her into taking the risk for me (which is basically what flirting is all about — can I lead her on just enough to get her to reveal her true feelings first?).
Trusting God with your Manhood
Many people think that for guys, being a Christian means giving up being a man. Nothing could be further from the truth. God created us as men to lead and take the initiative. And that means taking risks.
But there's no way I'll ever take a real risk as long as my sense of worth is tied up in what others think of me. And that includes a girlfriend, or even a wife. It's only as I put my trust in God and his unconditional acceptance of me through the atoning death of Jesus Christ that I can ever take up God's calling to be a leader. It's only when I'm confident of God's love for me that I can stop manipulating the woman I'm interested in, and instead love and honor her by shouldering the risks of the relationship myself.
And guys, while risk-taking leadership may begin with the DTR, it doesn't end there. From Genesis 2 to Matthew 1 (Joseph's concern for Mary), to Ephesians 5 (Christ's love for the church), the Bible consistently portrays the man's responsibility to initiate and lead in the marriage relationship.
Maybe the most often overlooked example of this is in the very first relationship, Adam and Eve. Genesis 2:22 tells us that after God made Eve, he brought her to Adam. Now what we might have expected next was for God to say something: explain the purpose of marriage, assure Adam that after all the disappointment of not finding a suitable helper (2:19-20), here she was, encourage him about her willingness to marry. But God doesn't do any of that. He simply brings her to Adam and says nothing. The silence is deafening. The next move is all up to him.
What does Adam do? He doesn't flirt with her. He doesn't ask her if she likes him. Instead, he shoulders the risk, steps up to the plate, and declares his intentions for the relationship. When Adam says in Genesis 2:23, "This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh," he's not just describing where she came from. And he's certainly not flirting, or putting out feelers. He's laying it on the line and declaring his intentions for marriage.
Guys, the woman you marry is going to depend on you to lead her. She's going to look to you to sacrifice your own comfort and convenience for the sake of the family. She's going to look to you to back her up when your teenage children, or the in-laws, come down on her. She's going to look to you set the pace spiritually. She's going to look to you for leadership when hard decisions about career, or parenting, or aging parents, or any of a host of other issues arise. She's going to look to you to set the example in admitting when you're wrong and asking for forgiveness.
In all of those situations, you're going to feel the fear again. The fear of making a wrong decision. The fear of being exposed. The fear of being rejected. And then, as with the DTR, the only way you'll be able to step up and lead as the man God made you to be, is if your trust is in God, not in the outcome of the conversation.
[Note to women: if the guy you're dating isn't leading well now, don't think that a ring on his finger is going to change anything. You should be extremely wary of prolonging that relationship in the hope that you'll be able to change him. At this point, humility, realism and the Scriptures are your best friends. Humility reminds you that you're not the Holy Spirit; you can't change another person's heart. Realism tells you that what you see is generally what you get. A poor leader may improve in his leadership skills incrementally over time, but he's unlikely to metamorphose into a great leader on your wedding night. And the Scriptures warn you that your heart does not have your best interests in mind (Jer. 17:9). It will betray you. Thus the repeated warning in Song of Solomon, "Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires" (Song of Solomon 2:7, 3:5, 8:4). So if you want to be married to a man who will lead well, don't date a man that doesn't.]
Swallowing Our Pride, Not Our Words
Since marriage is all about self-risking leadership, it makes sense that that's where we need to start in dating. Guys, we need to swallow our pride, which is unwilling to risk failure or embarrassment, and then open our mouths and initiate the relationship.
What should the DTR look like? There's no one right formula, but it should at least include the following:
What do you like about her? What qualities and attributes have attracted you to her? What have you observed that makes you want to pursue this? Tell her! And don't just focus on the romantic things that are likely to produce an emotional response. Talk to her about the biblical qualities and virtues that you've observed that make you think marriage is worth considering.
What are your intentions? If you're serious about obeying 1 Timothy 5:2, "Treat ... younger women as sisters, with absolute purity," your intentions should not be recreational or experimental dating. You wouldn't want someone treating your sister as a means for a little fun, would you? So if you're not in a position to get married, you shouldn't be having this conversation or the relationship! If you are, you don't need to tell her that you want to marry her, but you should let her know that you want to start this relationship in order to find out.
What's next? Regular dates? Getting involved in ministry together? Meeting each other's close friends? Give her a sense of how you intend to go about this, so she's not left wondering the next day why you haven't called. This might even include a sense of how long you think it will take to decide if this is leading to marriage or not.
Some of you men are thinking at this point, "Wait a minute. Are you saying that all the risk is mine?" Yes I am. "Doesn't that mean that she can just tell me no and leave me twisting in the wind?" Yes is does. Welcome to leadership. Welcome to trusting God. Welcome to being a man. Your cards belong on the table. Your intentions and your feelings, to the extent that you can discern them and it is appropriate for you to share them, should be clear. Part of your role even at this early stage is to protect the woman of your interest from unnecessary risk and vulnerability by providing a safe context in which she can respond.
Twenty years ago, when I finally worked up the courage to have the DTR, I didn't do everything right. I wasn't clear enough on my intentions. I certainly didn't give her a sense of what was next. That led to problems along the way. And additional DTRs. But by God's grace, I did risk myself. And I learned that God can be trusted, with my love life, with my manhood, with everything.
All that, from just one small conversation.
07 August 2008
God is not the Defendant
I am a huge fan of Boundless Webzine. I find their writing insightful and consistent with scripture. I came across article tonight that demands your attention. Ironically enough, I am currently reading The Shack to see what all the fuss is about. Enjoy this article by Gary Thomas.
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God's Not the Defendant
by Gary Thomas
"But what was God doing before He created the world?" a skeptic once asked Augustine, the famous 5th century bishop.
"Creating hell for people who ask stupid questions like that," the esteemed Augustine replied.
One of the many memorable lessons I learned from my theological mentor Dr. J.I. Packer was our obligation to accept the mystery of God and His refusal to answer every question we might ask of Him. The book of Job is forcefully clear: God does not feel obligated to answer a question just because we might ask it. Great thinkers such as Augustine and Packer lived with a humble, submissive willingness to accept this side of God.
Fewer and fewer today seem to be so humble. If we have a question, God must provide the answer.
How else to explain the unfathomable popularity of The Shack, a self-published novel by William Young, selling more than one million copies in its first year of publication?
The Ten Commandments begin with an overarching claim on our curiosity: Don't mess with the Godhead. It's the first commandment, and therefore of utmost importance. "Not taking the Lord's name in vain" and not creating idols in his image goes far beyond swear words and the actual construction of gold or wooden "deities." It's a call to respect the nature of God as He reveals himself, and a refusal to speculate beyond what He gives us.
Centuries of Jews have refrained from even speaking or writing out God's name, for fear of violating the respectful distance with which God asks us to think of Him — and now a Christian writer presents God the Father as a black woman who starts out talking ghetto, the Holy Spirit as a Ghost-like Asian woman, and then all but "channels" them by giving them long streams of dialogue, some of which directly contradicts long-held Christian beliefs. If this doesn't violate the letter of the first commandment, it at least impinges on the spirit.
But maybe I'm taking all this too seriously. After all, everyone says, it's fiction. Putting aside the fact that so was The Last Temptation of Christ, I want to go back and ask why anyone would want to re-depict the Godhead? God as He reveals Himself through His words and ways in the Old Testament, and through His incarnate form in the New, is so beautiful and perfect, what makes anyone think they could do a better job? God our Father is so wonderful in His love, authority, power, and rule; God the Holy Spirit first convicts us, and then comforts and teaches us; God the Son defines Himself as humble (Matt. 11:29) — imagine that; the God of the universe, humble! — and gentle (also Matt. 11:29), while bold enough to take on the Pharisees and the political rulers.
Who can do better than this? And why do so many readers say they've been waiting for this?
I don't mean to sound harsh here, but if you can't fall in love with the God of the Bible, you don't need a new depiction; you need a new heart. I understand how someone who has never known God, and whose heart is hostile toward God, can look in the pages of Scripture and despise Him. What I don't understand is how someone who truly knows God, and who has been reconciled to God, can think that a ghost-like depiction of the Holy Spirit, a re-creation of God the Father as a cliché-speaking, slap-happy kitchen cook, and Jesus as a somewhat dopey and clumsy helper makes Him more accessible and interesting.
C.S. Lewis brilliantly avoids these problems in The Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan represents the incarnate Christ in another world, a Christ who occasionally strikes fear while simultaneously offering gentle intimacy. Lewis wisely avoids depicting an incarnate Father and an incarnate Holy Spirit, and he doesn't have Aslan throw out theological zingers that challenge 2,000 years of orthodox Christian teaching.
The Wrong Question
There's another serious issue in The Shack that defies the mystery of faith: In essence, the book puts God on trial. The narrator's main contention against God is this (paraphrased): "You've created and/or allowed a world that has hurt me deeply; what do you have to say for yourself? Why should I believe in you anymore?"
Tragically, and perhaps even heretically, Young has God respond, "OK; let me explain myself to you as best you can understand it."
For 2,000 years, Christians have believed that God sent His Son because He put us on trial and found us wanting. The proper response of humans is, "I have sinned and fallen short of Your glory. Have mercy on me." Today's believer and non-believer is far more likely to respond, "There's evil in the world; God, if You really exist, explain Yourself!"
As a man who has sinned and who continues to sin, how dare I judge God for allowing sin? To destroy all sin, He would have to destroy me, as I continue to sin on a daily basis. At the very least, He would have to remove all whispers of any notion of free will; and without free will, would I still be made in the image of God?
Again, I can understand how someone who hasn't been regenerated by the Holy Spirit can live in hostility and anger toward God. What I don't get is how someone can be genuinely convicted of their sin — to the extent that they see it as God sees it, in all its depravity — be truly forgiven, having the weight of this sin and rebellion removed, knowing that now, because of Christ, every thought God has toward us is one of tender mercy; and then, on top of all this, getting to walk in fellowship with God every day, being comforted in our sorrows, convicted in our sins, taught in our ignorance, encouraged by His kindness, supported in His love; how can one of God's children truly experience all this and even dare to ask God to account for Himself? Every moment we live in peace with God and outside of hell is a moment we don't deserve; the thought of taking God to task for anything else is beyond me.
I confess that I don't understand this sense of entitlement, in large part because of how brilliantly God has addressed the problem of evil. God made provision for the sin of unbelievers to be dealt with justly in hell, and for the sin of believers to be dealt with on the cross. It's a brilliant, comprehensive plan that preserves the necessary free will inherent in beings made in the image of God himself. Does anyone seriously have a better plan?
It's not just that I take issue with The Shack's answers (though I do, and vehemently so). It's that I take issue with its questions. Job had a lot of questions to ask God, and he asked them in an impertinent manner. Instead of answering Job's questions, as "Papa" does in The Shack, God responded, "Listen now, and I will speak. I will question you, and you shall answer me." And Job's holy and healthy response was, "Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job. 42:4, 6).
True enough, the Psalms pose many of these same questions, but for the most part they are resolved in a spirit of humility, surrender, and worship — not with wild speculation, and not by channeling God until Papa and Jesus sound like two guests on the Oprah Winfrey show.
It is also very significant that you don't find the writers of the New Testament voicing these same questions. In the age of the church, an age in which God's own Spirit resides in us, an age in which we can be uniquely reconciled to God (in a way that even King David and the other psalm writers could not), I believe there is an opportunity for Christ-like humility and surrender that supersedes many of these questions. We can be part of the solution — bringing God's redemption to a fallen, sinful world — instead of constantly obsessing over why God allows a problem.
Nobody appointed me to be the church's guard dog when it comes to theology. For starters, I'm not qualified. So maybe I'm taking all this way too seriously. Even if I am, can we at least agree that this is as far as we need to go? I believe The Shack already crosses the line; but if I'm wrong, can we at least say "enough's enough"?
The first commandment is to respect and honor the Godhead. The beginning of all wisdom, according to Scripture, is to fear the Lord. The Shack, in my opinion, violates both. It is our privilege and duty to respect the God who made us, to humbly allow Him to reveal Himself or not reveal Himself as He chooses, and to live in the mystery that remains. We should reject any irreverent speculation as naïve ignorance at best, and flat out arrogant, speculative heresy at worse. Where The Shack falls in this spectrum isn't for me to judge, but its approach channels our culture's arrogant sense of entitlement far more effectively than it channels the never-changing revealed will and words, not to mention the nature, of God.
As for me, I'm grateful that God has given us His written word as an accurate, trustworthy account of who He is, what He has said, and how I may know Him — an account that every other account must be measured by. It is also an account, I'd submit, that places The Shack outside of appropriate Christian literature.
Let's be willing to live in the mystery of who God is. Let's remind ourselves that we are the ones who need to explain ourselves, not God. He is the judge; He is not the defendant. The real shack that keeps us imprisoned isn't our pain — it's our alienation from, rebellion against, and hostility toward God. That's the shack from which I wish William Young had sought Mack's liberation.
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God's Not the Defendant
by Gary Thomas
"But what was God doing before He created the world?" a skeptic once asked Augustine, the famous 5th century bishop.
"Creating hell for people who ask stupid questions like that," the esteemed Augustine replied.
One of the many memorable lessons I learned from my theological mentor Dr. J.I. Packer was our obligation to accept the mystery of God and His refusal to answer every question we might ask of Him. The book of Job is forcefully clear: God does not feel obligated to answer a question just because we might ask it. Great thinkers such as Augustine and Packer lived with a humble, submissive willingness to accept this side of God.
Fewer and fewer today seem to be so humble. If we have a question, God must provide the answer.
How else to explain the unfathomable popularity of The Shack, a self-published novel by William Young, selling more than one million copies in its first year of publication?
The Ten Commandments begin with an overarching claim on our curiosity: Don't mess with the Godhead. It's the first commandment, and therefore of utmost importance. "Not taking the Lord's name in vain" and not creating idols in his image goes far beyond swear words and the actual construction of gold or wooden "deities." It's a call to respect the nature of God as He reveals himself, and a refusal to speculate beyond what He gives us.
Centuries of Jews have refrained from even speaking or writing out God's name, for fear of violating the respectful distance with which God asks us to think of Him — and now a Christian writer presents God the Father as a black woman who starts out talking ghetto, the Holy Spirit as a Ghost-like Asian woman, and then all but "channels" them by giving them long streams of dialogue, some of which directly contradicts long-held Christian beliefs. If this doesn't violate the letter of the first commandment, it at least impinges on the spirit.
But maybe I'm taking all this too seriously. After all, everyone says, it's fiction. Putting aside the fact that so was The Last Temptation of Christ, I want to go back and ask why anyone would want to re-depict the Godhead? God as He reveals Himself through His words and ways in the Old Testament, and through His incarnate form in the New, is so beautiful and perfect, what makes anyone think they could do a better job? God our Father is so wonderful in His love, authority, power, and rule; God the Holy Spirit first convicts us, and then comforts and teaches us; God the Son defines Himself as humble (Matt. 11:29) — imagine that; the God of the universe, humble! — and gentle (also Matt. 11:29), while bold enough to take on the Pharisees and the political rulers.
Who can do better than this? And why do so many readers say they've been waiting for this?
I don't mean to sound harsh here, but if you can't fall in love with the God of the Bible, you don't need a new depiction; you need a new heart. I understand how someone who has never known God, and whose heart is hostile toward God, can look in the pages of Scripture and despise Him. What I don't understand is how someone who truly knows God, and who has been reconciled to God, can think that a ghost-like depiction of the Holy Spirit, a re-creation of God the Father as a cliché-speaking, slap-happy kitchen cook, and Jesus as a somewhat dopey and clumsy helper makes Him more accessible and interesting.
C.S. Lewis brilliantly avoids these problems in The Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan represents the incarnate Christ in another world, a Christ who occasionally strikes fear while simultaneously offering gentle intimacy. Lewis wisely avoids depicting an incarnate Father and an incarnate Holy Spirit, and he doesn't have Aslan throw out theological zingers that challenge 2,000 years of orthodox Christian teaching.
The Wrong Question
There's another serious issue in The Shack that defies the mystery of faith: In essence, the book puts God on trial. The narrator's main contention against God is this (paraphrased): "You've created and/or allowed a world that has hurt me deeply; what do you have to say for yourself? Why should I believe in you anymore?"
Tragically, and perhaps even heretically, Young has God respond, "OK; let me explain myself to you as best you can understand it."
For 2,000 years, Christians have believed that God sent His Son because He put us on trial and found us wanting. The proper response of humans is, "I have sinned and fallen short of Your glory. Have mercy on me." Today's believer and non-believer is far more likely to respond, "There's evil in the world; God, if You really exist, explain Yourself!"
As a man who has sinned and who continues to sin, how dare I judge God for allowing sin? To destroy all sin, He would have to destroy me, as I continue to sin on a daily basis. At the very least, He would have to remove all whispers of any notion of free will; and without free will, would I still be made in the image of God?
Again, I can understand how someone who hasn't been regenerated by the Holy Spirit can live in hostility and anger toward God. What I don't get is how someone can be genuinely convicted of their sin — to the extent that they see it as God sees it, in all its depravity — be truly forgiven, having the weight of this sin and rebellion removed, knowing that now, because of Christ, every thought God has toward us is one of tender mercy; and then, on top of all this, getting to walk in fellowship with God every day, being comforted in our sorrows, convicted in our sins, taught in our ignorance, encouraged by His kindness, supported in His love; how can one of God's children truly experience all this and even dare to ask God to account for Himself? Every moment we live in peace with God and outside of hell is a moment we don't deserve; the thought of taking God to task for anything else is beyond me.
I confess that I don't understand this sense of entitlement, in large part because of how brilliantly God has addressed the problem of evil. God made provision for the sin of unbelievers to be dealt with justly in hell, and for the sin of believers to be dealt with on the cross. It's a brilliant, comprehensive plan that preserves the necessary free will inherent in beings made in the image of God himself. Does anyone seriously have a better plan?
It's not just that I take issue with The Shack's answers (though I do, and vehemently so). It's that I take issue with its questions. Job had a lot of questions to ask God, and he asked them in an impertinent manner. Instead of answering Job's questions, as "Papa" does in The Shack, God responded, "Listen now, and I will speak. I will question you, and you shall answer me." And Job's holy and healthy response was, "Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job. 42:4, 6).
True enough, the Psalms pose many of these same questions, but for the most part they are resolved in a spirit of humility, surrender, and worship — not with wild speculation, and not by channeling God until Papa and Jesus sound like two guests on the Oprah Winfrey show.
It is also very significant that you don't find the writers of the New Testament voicing these same questions. In the age of the church, an age in which God's own Spirit resides in us, an age in which we can be uniquely reconciled to God (in a way that even King David and the other psalm writers could not), I believe there is an opportunity for Christ-like humility and surrender that supersedes many of these questions. We can be part of the solution — bringing God's redemption to a fallen, sinful world — instead of constantly obsessing over why God allows a problem.
Nobody appointed me to be the church's guard dog when it comes to theology. For starters, I'm not qualified. So maybe I'm taking all this way too seriously. Even if I am, can we at least agree that this is as far as we need to go? I believe The Shack already crosses the line; but if I'm wrong, can we at least say "enough's enough"?
The first commandment is to respect and honor the Godhead. The beginning of all wisdom, according to Scripture, is to fear the Lord. The Shack, in my opinion, violates both. It is our privilege and duty to respect the God who made us, to humbly allow Him to reveal Himself or not reveal Himself as He chooses, and to live in the mystery that remains. We should reject any irreverent speculation as naïve ignorance at best, and flat out arrogant, speculative heresy at worse. Where The Shack falls in this spectrum isn't for me to judge, but its approach channels our culture's arrogant sense of entitlement far more effectively than it channels the never-changing revealed will and words, not to mention the nature, of God.
As for me, I'm grateful that God has given us His written word as an accurate, trustworthy account of who He is, what He has said, and how I may know Him — an account that every other account must be measured by. It is also an account, I'd submit, that places The Shack outside of appropriate Christian literature.
Let's be willing to live in the mystery of who God is. Let's remind ourselves that we are the ones who need to explain ourselves, not God. He is the judge; He is not the defendant. The real shack that keeps us imprisoned isn't our pain — it's our alienation from, rebellion against, and hostility toward God. That's the shack from which I wish William Young had sought Mack's liberation.
How Great is Our God
Let no man say, “There is no God”, for I have seen Him for myself. I have felt the vast expanse of His love and tender kindness to me. I have experienced His faithfulness on a moment by moment basis. There is no God but Jehovah, Lord Almighty. When the psalmist wrote “my soul longs and even faints for you”, he foretold the outcry of my heart and soul even now, tonight. Even now as I sit here basking in the twilight glow of a quarter moon, being serenaded by the host of woodland creatures singing praises to their Maker. All I can think is, “How great Thou art…”
The majesty and glory of our God is so great that it consumes even the simplest and seemingly insignificant of events. In a moment of silence, His Presence comes rushing in and reminds my feeble, selfish mind of how magnificent He is. In the face of an ever-present fatigue that threatens to subdue my body, a peace and supernatural fountain of joy spring forth involuntarily from the depths of my inner man. All I have cries out “Glory! Glory to you, Almighty God!” All I want is to see You lifted high, my Maker. In the grand scheme of the cosmos, I am not even a speck. I see how infinitesimally small I am when compared to the tiniest glimpse of You in all Your splendor.
Father, you transcend truth. Your Son is the embodiment, the very personification of Truth. Your love provided Your creation with the free will to not love you back. Your sovereignty covers all Heaven and Earth. Nothing happens or fails to happen without Your permission, oh Mighty King of Heaven. The lightning bolts and hurricanes report to you. The lions and tigers sing Your praises. Even the Earth itself calls out to you from the tiniest flower blossom of spring to the mightiest of Sequoias. Your majesty knows no bounds.
Where could I go to escape you? Why would I ever try? You are matchless in the entire universe and I can’t think of a better reason to get out of my bed in the morning. May all of my honor and praise forever be passed on directly to you, my Lord and Savior. I am absolutely nothing without You. I lay prostrate before you.
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty…the whole Earth is full of His glory!
The majesty and glory of our God is so great that it consumes even the simplest and seemingly insignificant of events. In a moment of silence, His Presence comes rushing in and reminds my feeble, selfish mind of how magnificent He is. In the face of an ever-present fatigue that threatens to subdue my body, a peace and supernatural fountain of joy spring forth involuntarily from the depths of my inner man. All I have cries out “Glory! Glory to you, Almighty God!” All I want is to see You lifted high, my Maker. In the grand scheme of the cosmos, I am not even a speck. I see how infinitesimally small I am when compared to the tiniest glimpse of You in all Your splendor.
Father, you transcend truth. Your Son is the embodiment, the very personification of Truth. Your love provided Your creation with the free will to not love you back. Your sovereignty covers all Heaven and Earth. Nothing happens or fails to happen without Your permission, oh Mighty King of Heaven. The lightning bolts and hurricanes report to you. The lions and tigers sing Your praises. Even the Earth itself calls out to you from the tiniest flower blossom of spring to the mightiest of Sequoias. Your majesty knows no bounds.
Where could I go to escape you? Why would I ever try? You are matchless in the entire universe and I can’t think of a better reason to get out of my bed in the morning. May all of my honor and praise forever be passed on directly to you, my Lord and Savior. I am absolutely nothing without You. I lay prostrate before you.
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty…the whole Earth is full of His glory!
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