Oh, give thanks to the Lord! Call upon His name. Make known His deeds among the peoples! Sing to Him, sing praises to Him. Tell of all His wondrous works! Glory in His holy name. Let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice! Seek the Lord and His strength. Seek His presence continually! Remember the wondrous works that He has done, His miracles and the judgments He uttered, O offspring of Abraham, His servant, children of Jacob, His chosen ones!
He is the Lord our God. His judgments are in all the earth. He remembers His covenant forever, the word that He commanded for a thousand generations, the covenant that He made with Abraham, His sworn promise to Isaac as an everlasting covenant, saying, "To you I will give the land of Canaan as your portion for an inheritance." (Verses 1-11)
But this is the new covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the Lord: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God and they will be my people. And no longer will each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest," declares the Lord. "For I will forgive their iniquity and I will remember their sin no more." Jeremiah 31
I participated in the Philadelphia Harvest Crusade via satellite at my church on Saturday evening. Greg Laurie preached a stirring sermon that called many forward to ask Jesus into their hearts. They came in a steady stream from the many tiers of the auditorium and stood before Greg's podium as music played and singers sang and Jesus walked among them. As surely as He did when we could touch His flesh and brush against His clothing. Young men with tears spilling from their blue eyes. Young women with their hankies to their faces. And it all came flooding back to me. The catch in my chest. The need to cry almost choking me to death. Not knowing exactly what was going on, but understanding somewhere in the deepest part of me that I would never be the same.
I was six years old. The preacher in our Baptist church asked us to come forward if we wanted Jesus in our hearts. I did. More than anything. I still do. More than anything. I knew Jesus died for me. Sunday after Sunday, as Baptist preachers tend to do, the sermons reminded me Jesus took my place. Not a rampant sinner at six, yet I knew I loved this Jesus. And He was pounding on the door to my heart (Revelation 3), not knocking quietly. In my crying, I gave away the old Kay...not very old, I know, but nevertheless needy...sobbed her straight out of me. Because, when I repeated the prayer of faith after my preacher, Someone Else took her place. And filled me like a balloon is filled with helium. My soul felt fat and light--wanted to soar above the pews and shout "Glory!" Only I didn't even know to shout such a thing then. I felt giggly. Like it was my birthday. Then for a whole week, all I wanted to do was die and go to heaven. Sincerely. But that's another story that needlessly worried my parents.
I need to remember that day more often. The wondrous work God did in my heart. That day He made a covenant with me. A covenant sealed with the blood of His Son. God means it. Forever. I belong to him for a thousand thousands of years and more. Never will He leave. Never has He. Never will He forsake me. Never has He. Jesus will stand before God, the Father, one day and, with His hands on my shoulders, He'll say, "This one's ours, You know. Kay belongs to us." Oh, my heart gives thanks! I want to tell the world about this Savior Who saw a little girl who'd need Him so. Who loved a little kid in the same measure He loves big people. My God wanted to dwell in my nascent soul--to grow me up in Him. So you don't have to ask me why I'd continually seek His presence or sing a love song to Jesus at the top of my voice. I am loved! I can walk right into God's presence. I can feel Him living in me. What does a person do without God Himself living in her heart? What fills that place? Oh, I know. I know. It's empty. A vacuum seeking everything and finding nothing. I barely remember it. Though I've taken my Savior to places I regret with all my heart, and though the place in me became almost incomprehensibly small, Jesus was still there. And I was still His. Life without Him must be so vastly hopeless. Yet God knows even those of us who don't know Him. Desires to take up residence in our lives--our actual bodies--and turn us into who He created us to be. That is quite an offer considering the misery without Him. Don't you think?
I am now sixty-five. For almost sixty years I've known Jesus. I haven't acted like it some of that time. And if His covenant with me weren't something God swore to me, we'd be done. I didn't keep my part of the bargain too many times to count. I broke covenant. God never has. On that December day of my sixth year, Jesus made me His forever. He's determined to finish in me what He started. Growing me up into heaven. Determined with all His strength to forgive my foolishness and willfulness. His covenant with me sealed with the blood from His palms and side. No. Jesus paid too big a price for my life to let me be. And rather than irk me, it makes me crazy in love with Him! Who would do that? Really? Love me that much? Live in the slums of my heart so He can eventually make a place in me fit for a King? Oh, Father, I do remember the wondrous work You've done! And now I know to say, "Glory!"
He is the Lord our God. His judgments are in all the earth. He remembers His covenant forever, the word that He commanded for a thousand generations, the covenant that He made with Abraham, His sworn promise to Isaac as an everlasting covenant, saying, "To you I will give the land of Canaan as your portion for an inheritance." (Verses 1-11)
But this is the new covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the Lord: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God and they will be my people. And no longer will each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest," declares the Lord. "For I will forgive their iniquity and I will remember their sin no more." Jeremiah 31
I participated in the Philadelphia Harvest Crusade via satellite at my church on Saturday evening. Greg Laurie preached a stirring sermon that called many forward to ask Jesus into their hearts. They came in a steady stream from the many tiers of the auditorium and stood before Greg's podium as music played and singers sang and Jesus walked among them. As surely as He did when we could touch His flesh and brush against His clothing. Young men with tears spilling from their blue eyes. Young women with their hankies to their faces. And it all came flooding back to me. The catch in my chest. The need to cry almost choking me to death. Not knowing exactly what was going on, but understanding somewhere in the deepest part of me that I would never be the same.
I was six years old. The preacher in our Baptist church asked us to come forward if we wanted Jesus in our hearts. I did. More than anything. I still do. More than anything. I knew Jesus died for me. Sunday after Sunday, as Baptist preachers tend to do, the sermons reminded me Jesus took my place. Not a rampant sinner at six, yet I knew I loved this Jesus. And He was pounding on the door to my heart (Revelation 3), not knocking quietly. In my crying, I gave away the old Kay...not very old, I know, but nevertheless needy...sobbed her straight out of me. Because, when I repeated the prayer of faith after my preacher, Someone Else took her place. And filled me like a balloon is filled with helium. My soul felt fat and light--wanted to soar above the pews and shout "Glory!" Only I didn't even know to shout such a thing then. I felt giggly. Like it was my birthday. Then for a whole week, all I wanted to do was die and go to heaven. Sincerely. But that's another story that needlessly worried my parents.
I need to remember that day more often. The wondrous work God did in my heart. That day He made a covenant with me. A covenant sealed with the blood of His Son. God means it. Forever. I belong to him for a thousand thousands of years and more. Never will He leave. Never has He. Never will He forsake me. Never has He. Jesus will stand before God, the Father, one day and, with His hands on my shoulders, He'll say, "This one's ours, You know. Kay belongs to us." Oh, my heart gives thanks! I want to tell the world about this Savior Who saw a little girl who'd need Him so. Who loved a little kid in the same measure He loves big people. My God wanted to dwell in my nascent soul--to grow me up in Him. So you don't have to ask me why I'd continually seek His presence or sing a love song to Jesus at the top of my voice. I am loved! I can walk right into God's presence. I can feel Him living in me. What does a person do without God Himself living in her heart? What fills that place? Oh, I know. I know. It's empty. A vacuum seeking everything and finding nothing. I barely remember it. Though I've taken my Savior to places I regret with all my heart, and though the place in me became almost incomprehensibly small, Jesus was still there. And I was still His. Life without Him must be so vastly hopeless. Yet God knows even those of us who don't know Him. Desires to take up residence in our lives--our actual bodies--and turn us into who He created us to be. That is quite an offer considering the misery without Him. Don't you think?
I am now sixty-five. For almost sixty years I've known Jesus. I haven't acted like it some of that time. And if His covenant with me weren't something God swore to me, we'd be done. I didn't keep my part of the bargain too many times to count. I broke covenant. God never has. On that December day of my sixth year, Jesus made me His forever. He's determined to finish in me what He started. Growing me up into heaven. Determined with all His strength to forgive my foolishness and willfulness. His covenant with me sealed with the blood from His palms and side. No. Jesus paid too big a price for my life to let me be. And rather than irk me, it makes me crazy in love with Him! Who would do that? Really? Love me that much? Live in the slums of my heart so He can eventually make a place in me fit for a King? Oh, Father, I do remember the wondrous work You've done! And now I know to say, "Glory!"
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