The Altar
For a very long, long time, I refused to go to the Altar whenever Altar Calls were given. It was easily 3 to 4 years of refusal. Maybe, for as long as how old Zane is. Or at the very least, as long as since I was at my "cold phase" in my mother church.
We were with an Anglican church for almost a year. This church does not open the Altar often. However, each time when the Altar was opened, I still remained at my seat.
Maybe my heart is still cold. Maybe I am still angry with God. Maybe I still feel I do not deserve such treatment in life.
Yesterday, in the present church we have been attending since August last year, I went to the Altar when it was opened. I wept and I wept and I wept. God's Presence and Comfort of the Holy Spirit brought me to my knees. I just wept silently for a very long time. A kind lady quietly placed a piece of tissue paper into my palm. I think I was there for easily 20 minutes.
Finally, I did not stand outside God's temple whenever I come to see Him.
Finally, by the Blood of the Lamb, I dared to step into the Holy of Holies.
It was awesome. It was fearsome. It was majestic. It was consuming.
Yet, it was gentle and assuring. It was familiar.
Healing flows. Freedom comes.
And my heart cries out, "Abba Father".
Thank You, God.
posted by Jesselyn Ng @ 5:59 PM
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