I really enjoy writing, but I came to a predicament today.
I view whatever I write as a sort of offering, I always want it to glorify God, so as I sat before the altar, trying to write something that honored His name... I started writing and this is what ended up on the page.
Before the Altar
I can create nothing that gives You the honor You are due.
My words are weak, frail, used too many times
even the best are devoid and stale.
No colors I possess can create even a glimpse of Your beauty.
The only tools I have, have come from You!
No melody I could compose would express what You are...
Everything in this world has it's own constraints, but You Lord are not constrained!
How do I express an infinite God, with finite tools?
You are Above.
You are Beyond.
You are More.
You are Greater.
than anything I have ever, or will ever know.
You cannot be contained.
You will not be contained.
You created, thought up, what each color would be
it's composition, how it would blend and fit with the rest of your creation.
You determined the vibration of each sound,
the ring of each note existed in You long before any man ever uttered a noise.
The harmony of the winds, the tones in each gust, it was You who fashioned every part.
Everything I create is a masterstudy
It's a poorly sketched Mona Lisa handed back to DaVinci!
It's a black and white print of a dynamically colored flower garden!
My grays could never encompass the warm, orange depths of Your grace, the electric green of the new life I've been given, the startling yellow of Your joy, and the bright blue tones of Your love!
I cannot even show the blackest depths of my own heart and my sinful nature,
and oh, to fathom
the rich crimson of Your blood
the black darkness
to reveal a blinding, magnificent, manifestation of Glory!
Whiter, than anything on earth.
Overflowing with light,
with colors of You so brightly shining that all optically visible color is no longer seen,
in my mind alone I know the richness of Your Spirit dwells in this place.
...but You are Beyond.
Anything I can create in my mind, is a pathetic, second-rate Copy.
You are the original.
So how do I honor You?
I only have what You've given me...
What do you ask?
What do you want?
I can give You nothing You do not already possess.
I am already Yours.
You knew I would have nothing to give, so you slipped me something I could claim as mine for a moment just so I would have something to offer.
Whatever you ask Lord.