Waiting for...

February 10, 2008 - Sunday

Waiting for...
Current mood:  awake

Tonight Pastor spoke about waking up. The words that rang in my head were-
You never want to say to yourself,
'It's too late, I waited to long.'

Now the worse case scenario as we talked about in service was shown to us in a visual.
I personally have never see the movie Titanic- way too emotional for me... but as the picture formed up on the big screen at church I knew that scene. The water was as black as the sky. The men rowing the life boat through the ice chunks were old timely looking. They were shouting, 'Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?' Their boat had to maneuver through the floating bodies, as they realized they were all dead. A mom floating face up with her frozen baby in her arms. It hit the men. It's too late; we waited to long.

Of course Pastor showed us this scene to remind us of all the people around us but out of our comfort zone to reach out to. To show the love of Christ. To witness with our testimony. To share the Words of our Savior. So many people hurting in our world.
What is the most important thing we can give them?
Over 45 people died this week in tornadoes across our country, a shooting in a classroom, how many families lost loved ones both near and far?
I don't want to lose my loved ones. I have many I pray for.
That more than anything they find the truth.
The saving Grace that only He can provide.
The sanctuary of peace that only He can cover them with.
The unconditional love that only He will wrap them in.
It's not religion. It's Jesus.

Tonight I am lifting you up- my loved ones.
I am open about my faith and have a walk that some would call a charismatic kind of faith. But I have NEVER served a whimpy, quiet God. My God is the creator of the Universe! I have always believed Him to do the impossible. I have seen Him do the impossible, He has done the impossible with me. I will not be a whimpy servant!
I will not stand back and have to say- 'It's too late, I waited to long.'

Currently listening :
Effortless
By Rita Springer