Holy

I love my God. He's my Father. His laughter pours over me. His joy is my strength. I don't feel the need to pray with 'Thee's' and 'Thous'...there's an effortless familiarity in our relationship. That's the beauty of God. He's relational. He desires us to step into His presence and never turns us away. It doesn't matter what we wear, where we live, what language we speak...what our sins are; He takes us just as we are. He sees our hearts, our spirit--not these bodies we live in.

And though there is such simplicity and beauty in that familiarity, I wonder at times if we lose site of His holiness. That 'fear' of the Lord. Not a fear based in this world's language, but the fear that stems from realizing how holy He is and how so unholy we are. Our sinful nature wants to separate us from Him. We cannot step into His presence without the covering of His blood. Truly, it would kill us--our spirits were made for His presence, but our bodies were not.

Have you ever felt this when you enter praise and worship? Sometimes, it's almost too much for me, His presence. Just like the Israelites trembled with fear at the base of Mount Sinai--they couldn't imagine Him even speaking to them--I sometimes tremble in His presence. My spirit longs for more of Him, but my sin-filled body cannot handle it. There are times where His presence is so strong, I simply have to take a step back from Him. I fear His presence--I'm not scared of it, but I know it will knock this body flat, and I respect the amazing power of our God. At moments like this, I cry out in praise--not to my Friend, not to my Father--but to the King of Kings, the Alpha and Omega, the Great I AM.