The Giant of Humdrum

I am reading a book right now by Max Lucado called, "Facing Your Giants". This book caught my eye immediately as I wandered through the Bible book store. Giants? I have hundreds of them! And they are all shouting at me - they are ALL "defying the armies of the Living God".

So many fears have tormented me through the years. Fear of failure and rejection. Fear of being misunderstood . . . and here is the biggie . . . fear of disappointing God. But 2 Timothy 1:7 tells me that I don't have to live in fear. For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.

Lucado's poetic prose is making me aware of giants that I didn't even know were snarling at me. Fear can creep in so subtly, it is hard for me to realize that I am slowly being strangled by a stronghold.

I encourage you to pick up a copy, and let God teach you through it. It is filled with all kinds of great nuggets. But for now, I would like to share one giant with you that nearly took my breath away.

It is in chapter 13, which is called "Distant Deity". The chapter opens up with the story of priest Abinadab's son Uzzah, and his mistake in touching the ark of the covenant. They are transporting the ark from one location to another, and Uzzah simply steadies the holy chest and is zapped. Dead on the spot. The community grieves, and wonders why Uzzah had to die. The real question should be, why does God allow everyone else to live?

The lesson in this chapter is about how the holy can so easily become humdrum. Aside from not loving God and others, I believe this is what grieves God's heart the most.

It got me thinking. How am I approaching a Holy God? He is the same yesterday, today and forever - so He is still the God of the Old Testament. He is HOLY, to be adored, revered, worshiped and always put first . . . even above my fears.

As Christians, we are always wanting the presence of God to come. We are hoping He will make an appearance during our worship time, at our Bible study or to empower our prayer meetings. Something I am discovering, is that the presence of God (in His purest and most powerful and intimate form) comes this way . . .

Max Lucado wrote: "God comes, mind you. But He comes on his own terms. He comes when commands are revered, hearts are clean, and confession is made."

This statement practically knocked me off the couch. I felt zapped, much like Uzzah.

But how does the chapter end? David is dancing. Why? Because like Lucado wrote: "A reverent heart and a dancing foot can belong to the same person. David understood that God doesn't respond to magic potions or clever slogans. He looks for more. He looks for reverence, obedience, and God-hungry hearts."

The Giant of Humdrum is tempting me with complacency and hardness of heart. Getting on my face before God seems like the perfect size and shape stone I will need to conquer this one.