I have been replaying this thought in my head for days now…It is a message from God reminding me that somewhere, somehow I’ve misplaced the reverence for Him that I once had. I must admit that I can’t remember when it faded away. Could it have been when I changed churches or when I began wearing pants to church more than I wore dresses? Could it have been when I spent more time looking in the mirror for work than I did before leaving the house for church? I mean I still believed that I loved the Lord, I still trusted Him, I still prayed but I let something get in the way. It was this revelation that made me realize that I didn’t give Him the utmost respect that He is due or that He deserves. Where had it gone? When did it go? This change was gradual, one that I didn’t really notice until recently. It was a change that, once it was discovered I didn’t like the way I felt or the way I treated the Father who’d been so faithful and honest to me. Can I blame society? You know we have become a people of Jack-in-the Boxes that pop up only when tragedy or devastations strike. It’s only when towers crash to the ground, hurricanes destroy an entire city, homes are flooded or near foreclosure, marriages are broken and jobs are lost? We pop out when someone is gravely ill or when our child is strung out on drugs, it is then that we spend every available minute calling on Him to “fix it” and as soon as He does we’re back to our old selves. Can I blame my new church because they do things differently than my old church? Can I blame myself for spending more time on my feet than on my knees? Did I lose it because things have gotten so nonchalant in life and on television? Had I begun agreeing with everything and not questioning anything? Freedom of this; freedom of that… Did I put my reverence on a shelf then and forget about it?
During the ages of 18 thru 22 I lived with my grandmother. I was grown so I came and went as most grown “kids” think they can do. My Saturdays usually extended over into Sunday so for me Sundays were considered as MY day. However my grandmother, a devout Christian that I often saw reading her Bible daily and praying on her knees constantly, had several Sunday rules that no one dared to cross – one was no washing clothes on Sunday. This was God’s day…In her house if they hadn’t been washed Monday thru Saturday then they wouldn’t be washed on Sunday either. This was a small thing but for her it was her reverence. For my grandmother there were certain things that just had to be, no question, simply because of her respect for God.
Where oh where have my reverence gone…oh where oh where can it be? The Lord’s still here but my reverence is gone – and nobody’s moved it but me…Sunday, my day of worship, it shouldn’t be like my Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday. Sundays should be SPECIAL. The day that I worship should be the day when I release all of the hell that I’ve endured all week into the Hands of the Father and then allow Him to replenish my soul. It should be the day when, like back in the days of my grandmother, I should come in with a calmer spirit thankful for God’s grace and mercy; a day of peace and a day of rest. It is the day that should be set apart from the normal days of running to and fro, set apart from sending and answering emails on the BlackBerry, set apart from having a glass of wine or a cocktail or two with friends, a day set apart from allowing something or someone to make you angry enough to do as Peter and say a bad word or two. Yes everyday must be a day of reverence, but Sundays must be different; it must be a true day of REVERENCE. It must be a day to give back to God the respect that He so lovingly has given to me. Hmm…God deserves my respect, that’s the least I can do - so now that I know better, I must do better… TGBTG
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