spiritual act of worship...

I love my church here in Kenai. I felt the presence of God fully this morning in worship on this Easter morning. They remain in the spirit, they live in the spirit, they speak in the spirit, they worship in the spirit. It's so refreshing.

As I had my hands raised in worship this morning and felt the Spirit bathing me in love a thought came over me. I want to live every moment as a disciple. The disciples' lifestyle was drastically different than other believers of Jesus' day. What would it look like to live that way? Loving, questioning, fervently seeking, always living in the presence of Jesus, traveling with him, working with him, fellowshipping with him. While I can't travel with him, incarnate, I can go to where he is working and work with him there. So, it is now an ambition of mine to live as a disciple in every moment.

I watched Mel's Passion of the Christ again on Friday night. After seeing it several times it still had a profound effect on me. I hope it always has a profound effect and I hope that it even intensifies. I was annoyed with those watching it with me. I was sitting in awe and wonder at Jesus my Savior, and they were laughing and talking throughout the movie. I wanted to grab them and shake them and say, "Don't you understand? Don't you get it? This is what really happened. Actually it isn't even half of what really happened but it still gives us a picture of his sacrifice for US! The least you could do is be reverent." But I didn't say anything. I sat there mourning with my hands up around my face so no one would see. I really tried to process everything that was happening, to imagine myself there in the crowd, to fully comprehend the magnitude of it all. But I couldn't fully comprehend it and I probably never will this side of Heaven. It's all so fantastical; it's hard to believe. But I put my faith in it and I believe in it with conviction. Someone died for me so that I might live forever. Me. Little, insignificant me had someone think enough of her to sacrifice his own life for mine. The least I could do is give my life back to him. Romans 12:1 says: "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship."

I wrote this following my first viewing of the Passion of the Christ the night it opened in the theaters a couple years ago.

I remember you willingly hanging there
Bloodied and beaten and broken for me.
Perfect flesh torn just so I could be reborn;
Asking me to believe in it if I dare:
“Will you accept this gift?” came your plea.
And you handed down to me a robe and crown
And said “These things along with so much more could be your own
If when this life and world are through
You can honestly say that I lived in you.”
When I saw your life was near it’s end
I argued “No it cannot be – You are my Friend.
Your life for mine? Father…” I started to cry.
“My King, Love of my Life, Lord – who am I?”
So much time has passed since then
So many thing are happening.
There are still questions that I do not understand
And just like before you comfort me“
Trust me Sweet Child, it’s in the plan.”
So every morning I faithfully rise with the sun, and
Thus starts my constant prayer for you to come.
I empty myself daily that there may be more room for You.
I die to myself daily that I may live more fully in You.
Each day I am amazed that you thought enough of me
To offer down not only a robe and crown
But the gift of all eternity.
You thought enough of me to call me your Sweet Child
And with your own perfect life
It was mine you reconciled.