Last night I went to church. I didn't really know what to expect. I just knew that I needed to be there. When I got there it was kind of awkward. It was dark. There were no chairs set up. There were candles and crosses all around. Everyone was standing in the back not really knowing what to do. Not your tradition worship service...which I loved! When I looked closer, there were little areas around the room set up with different things. In the middle of the room there was a round platform covered in black cloth and bibles all around the edges. There were cushions to sit on and read the various scriptures listed on card stock. Scriptures about what this weekend means. What happened to Jesus. The stories told by men that were there...men that watched Him die and saw Him raised to life again. There was a cross in the middle made from what looked like railroad cross ties. There was a wooden platform with a crown of thorns set up on top for display. Candles were everywhere. On one of the walls clips from The Passion of the Christ played. Music was playing...instrumental reflective music. Around the room were several other crosses, communion was set up on a table, tithe and offering boxes, and this...
In this bowl was clear water. Beside it were little pieces of red paper and red markers. The idea was to write whatever you wanted on those pieces of paper...sin, struggles, worries, hurt, pain, names, thoughts, whatever...and when you dropped them into the water the ink dissolved and what you wrote was gone. The ink disappeared and left the water stained a shade of red. The more paper and ink...the deeper the color became. By the time I got over there it was a deep crimson. I stood there directly in front of the bowl asking God what I needed to write on that paper. I quickly began writing. I filled my little piece of paper up with things...the things I walked in with and hoped to leave at His feet. Tears burned my eyes as I watched the ink fade and eventually disappear. My past. My pain. My worries. My failures. My disappointment. Gone.
I walked into that service with such a heavy heart. I walked in with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I walked in full of self-pity and pride. I walked in tempted not to trust Him...doubting Him. I knew the first thing I had to do and did it...it was hard. It was a sacrifice. But with tears in my eyes I was obedient. I wanted to show Him that I was serious. I wanted Him to see that I didn't want anything to be in the way of my time with Him. I wanted to show Him that I wanted nothing more than I wanted Him. Immediately I sensed His presence in a way that I can't even really put into words. In that moment I was completely humbled.
I realized that I had worried all day about things that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But I worried...all day long about them. I thought He had failed me. I thought that He had forgotten about me. I didn't believe that He actually had me in His hand. I felt like He had dropped the ball.
But...I walked away with peace. I walked away with my sin atoned for. I walked away redeemed. I walked away with confidence...not in myself but in Him. I walked away with the same circumstances, the same scary things, but with a new sense of His presence in all of it. I walked away knowing that He was in total control! I walked away knowing that He cannot and will not fail. I knew that everything would be okay. I remembered that as tightly as I'm holding onto Him that He is holding onto me even tighter. I felt head knowledge translate to my broken heart and begin healing it.
The God that walked away from death can certainly take care of me and meet my needs. He can absolutely work in and through me to accomplish His purpose. The God that walked away from death can rescue me from darkness and reach down and comfort me. He did what He did for ME. He walked up that hill to die for ME! If He was willing to do all of that...why would I doubt Him. Why would I not believe a Saviour who willingly paid my ransom...a debt I could never have paid.
