Post by cleetusthefetus on Sept 6, 2006 13:07:14 GMT -5
I have nothing to give that could make You more glorious than You already are. None of my offerings could even come CLOSE to giving You everything You deserve.
Who am I, Lord?
Who am I?!
I stand in awe of Your presence, Your mercy, Your judgments, Your glory, the holy fire dancing around Your throne. I cannot do anything but lay prostrate on the ground.
The purest white I have ever known emanates from Your throne right in front of me. It is overwhelmingly bright even if I close my eyes. It vaguely--vaguely-- reminds me of the brilliance of lightning.
The sounds of the angels' flapping wings are in sync with the rhythm of their sweet music. Hundreds, thousands of different yet distinct choruses fill the air.
Heavenly voices with deep booming bass intermingle with those higher than a dog whistle and everything in between. The pulsating chords and voices and stringed instruments they carry thunder in my chest. Each song complements another, and each note is distinct and melodious in its own right.
Around and around Your throne they go with their instruments and their songs. My eyes begin to adjust to the light. Their joy is evident in their heavenly voices as they sing, and on their faces as they smile.
And suddenly, they stop. They pause for a moment, the echo of the angelic orchestra reaching distances far and away. Then silence.
With audible gasps, the angels see something about You that they've never seen before. Something wonderful. Something new.
A new song breaks forth. It's even louder than before.
The tears begin to flow from my eyes. I am still laying on the ground, shaking with uncontrollable fear. I cannot dare to look at You, because of Your holiness and because of my sinful nature.
I want to join my voice with the angels. I want to cry 'Glory, glory, glory to the Lord God Almighty!'.
But my voice would sound shallow and ugly by comparison. The tears race down my cheeks toward the ground.
Anything I could add, even if I had the purest of hearts, would only insult Your beauty. My riches are Your rags. I have NOTHING to give. WHAT could You POSSIBLY want from me?!?!?! What do I have that You would long for? Please, Lord, please take me away from here or else I will only mess up the chorus of Your praise!
I feel a gentle touch on my chin. Your soft hand lifts my head up to gaze into Your mesmerizing ocean-blue eyes. My own eyes clench shut and my heart is quivering in fear.
Beloved, open your eyes.
Your voice is as full as rolling thunder, sharper than a double-edged sword, yet soothing enough to coax my eyes into opening.
I see Your eyes looking into mine, with an enormous smile on Your beautiful face. You reach out Your hand to catch my tears before they hit the ground and dry them off my cheeks.
Sing for Me. Lift up your hands. I alone will make your offerings holy and pleasing unto Me.
My heart is racing with excitement. It leaps for joy as it prepares to perform its deepest longing: worship the Sovereign Lord. I smile as I lift up my hands, with my chin quivering as my vocal chords struggle to find a chorus worthy of the King. May this be pleasing to You, Father. How I long for You to smile upon me!
I lift up my hands in praise and adoration. My voice begins to find itself again; "Ah....Ad--- Adonai..."
Ohhhhh how I love You, My child. You can't do this the wrong way if your heart is right. Continue to worship Me, for I have longed to receive your praise since before you were born. I feel Your voice smile warmly, as if giving a gift to a small child.
Every nerve ending in my body cackles with warm, tingling energy. I begin to laugh as even more joy beyond description wraps around me like a warm blanket. The pearly rays of light coming from Your throne continue to shine upon the angels and upon myself.
A new song of praise is added, and I am lost in the majesty of Your presence.
Who am I, Lord?
Who am I?!
I stand in awe of Your presence, Your mercy, Your judgments, Your glory, the holy fire dancing around Your throne. I cannot do anything but lay prostrate on the ground.
The purest white I have ever known emanates from Your throne right in front of me. It is overwhelmingly bright even if I close my eyes. It vaguely--vaguely-- reminds me of the brilliance of lightning.
The sounds of the angels' flapping wings are in sync with the rhythm of their sweet music. Hundreds, thousands of different yet distinct choruses fill the air.
Heavenly voices with deep booming bass intermingle with those higher than a dog whistle and everything in between. The pulsating chords and voices and stringed instruments they carry thunder in my chest. Each song complements another, and each note is distinct and melodious in its own right.
Around and around Your throne they go with their instruments and their songs. My eyes begin to adjust to the light. Their joy is evident in their heavenly voices as they sing, and on their faces as they smile.
And suddenly, they stop. They pause for a moment, the echo of the angelic orchestra reaching distances far and away. Then silence.
With audible gasps, the angels see something about You that they've never seen before. Something wonderful. Something new.
A new song breaks forth. It's even louder than before.
The tears begin to flow from my eyes. I am still laying on the ground, shaking with uncontrollable fear. I cannot dare to look at You, because of Your holiness and because of my sinful nature.
I want to join my voice with the angels. I want to cry 'Glory, glory, glory to the Lord God Almighty!'.
But my voice would sound shallow and ugly by comparison. The tears race down my cheeks toward the ground.
Anything I could add, even if I had the purest of hearts, would only insult Your beauty. My riches are Your rags. I have NOTHING to give. WHAT could You POSSIBLY want from me?!?!?! What do I have that You would long for? Please, Lord, please take me away from here or else I will only mess up the chorus of Your praise!
I feel a gentle touch on my chin. Your soft hand lifts my head up to gaze into Your mesmerizing ocean-blue eyes. My own eyes clench shut and my heart is quivering in fear.
Beloved, open your eyes.
Your voice is as full as rolling thunder, sharper than a double-edged sword, yet soothing enough to coax my eyes into opening.
I see Your eyes looking into mine, with an enormous smile on Your beautiful face. You reach out Your hand to catch my tears before they hit the ground and dry them off my cheeks.
Sing for Me. Lift up your hands. I alone will make your offerings holy and pleasing unto Me.
My heart is racing with excitement. It leaps for joy as it prepares to perform its deepest longing: worship the Sovereign Lord. I smile as I lift up my hands, with my chin quivering as my vocal chords struggle to find a chorus worthy of the King. May this be pleasing to You, Father. How I long for You to smile upon me!
I lift up my hands in praise and adoration. My voice begins to find itself again; "Ah....Ad--- Adonai..."
Ohhhhh how I love You, My child. You can't do this the wrong way if your heart is right. Continue to worship Me, for I have longed to receive your praise since before you were born. I feel Your voice smile warmly, as if giving a gift to a small child.
Every nerve ending in my body cackles with warm, tingling energy. I begin to laugh as even more joy beyond description wraps around me like a warm blanket. The pearly rays of light coming from Your throne continue to shine upon the angels and upon myself.
A new song of praise is added, and I am lost in the majesty of Your presence.
