A Living Sacrifice

Every Sunday, I would settle into my favorite pew, anticipation buzzing in the air. The moment our pastor steps up to the pulpit, I can feel the familiar thrill coursing through me, ready to be swept away on a journey of faith. For the past few years, his passionate recounting of personal encounters with Jesus has captivated my heart, drawing me ever deeper into the narrative tapestry he so masterfully weaves.

His voice would ebb and flow, rich with emotion, as he shared stories that danced before my eyes with vivid imagery. I would sit in rapt silence, enveloped in a sense of awe, often wondering how he managed to nurture such a profound bond with our Lord and Savior. It was as if, in those moments, he was not merely speaking; he was inviting us into a sacred space where the holy felt tangible.

Time and again, he urged our congregation to "press in" and seek out Jesus, just as the desperate woman had in Matthew 9:20. I could almost see her in my mind—the scene unfolding like a captivating film. With determination etched on her face, she crawled through the multitude, her heart racing with hope and desperation. How brave she was! Her fingertips brushed against the dirt as she moved through the crowd, striving to grasp the very hem of His garment. She believed that her deliverance lay just within reach, fueled by an unwavering conviction that Jesus held the key to her healing.

Though this woman had not witnessed His miracles firsthand, she had heard the whispers—tales of blind eyes suddenly opening and the lame, once grounded in despair, now leaping joyfully. This fragile seed of belief had sprouted within her, guiding her with unwavering purpose toward the fulfillment of her heart's deepest desire.

And in my heart, I sensed our pastor's call echoed through the ages, beckoning us to uncover that same earnest belief within ourselves. He encouraged us to turn inward, to seek out that hidden seed of longing to know Jesus on an intimate level, just as the woman had. Yet, I couldn't shake the envy that sometimes gripped my heart. I longed to share in the closeness to the Lord he described while feeling like a vast chasm lay between me and my Jesus.

Lately, I've felt a gentle nudge from the Lord, guiding me to understand what it truly means to be a living sacrifice for Him. Honestly, at first, I struggled to grasp the depth of this calling. Then, one day, a dear friend of mine shared the poignant story of Abraham. In a pivotal moment of divine testing, he was asked to sacrifice his own son on an altar to God. As she spoke, she pointed out something profound about this tale that had utterly evaded me until then.

She encouraged me to think about Isaac's role in this heart-wrenching portrayal. I imagined him— walking up the mountainside right beside his father, fully aware that a sacrifice had to be made, and yet there was no lamb to be seen. I could picture Isaac's heart racing, the uncertainty flooding his mind as he turned to meet Abraham's gaze, a gaze filled with both anguish and obedience. What must that moment have felt like for him when his father bound his hands and feet? As he was gently lifted onto the stone altar, covered in wood and ready for fire, I couldn't help but wonder if he grasped the gravity of the situation he was in.

While the Scriptures don't specify Isaac's exact age during this heartbreaking moment, I recalled that Abraham refers to him as a boy in Genesis 22:5. I imagined him—likely around twelve years old—laying there, his heart pounding in his chest, eyes wide with confusion. What was going through his mind as he looked closely at his father's tear-streaked face? His gaze must have caught the glint of the knife catching the sunlight above him. Could he even start to comprehend the scene unfolding?

And just when all hope seemed lost, God's mercy swooped in at the perfect moment, halting Abraham before he could follow through on his heartbreaking task. We all know how this story concludes: Isaac's life is spared, and God provides a ram for the sacrifice. Abraham receives praise from the Lord for his obedience and unwavering faith. This story is a beautiful foreshadowing of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ—the ultimate Lamb who stood in our place, sacrificed for our sins, so we could have everlasting life. Once again, God's immeasurable mercy intervened to save us.

This brings me to Romans 12:1, which states, "Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship." When I read the words "I urge you," I feel the deep significance and urgency in Paul's plea. He earnestly invites us to respond, rooted in the boundless mercy God offers. It's a mercy that isn't just abundant but freely given to anyone with a sincere heart, to those who strive to press in, on their hands and knees, yearning to touch the very hem of His robe and experience the fullness of God.

This past weekend, I had an extraordinary encounter that left me in awe of my Father's all-encompassing love for me. Even now, as I try to put my experience into words, I find myself struggling to convey the depth of what I felt. It began when I dedicated some intentional time of prayer, surrendering myself to the Holy Spirit. In those moments, I started to grasp just a tiny fraction of who my Heavenly Father really is.

What struck me most was His tender-heartedness—it surpassed anything I had ever imagined. I've often heard of His love, but experiencing it firsthand was something completely different. Reflecting on this revelation, I recognize that my words will never fully encapsulate the essence of what I uncovered.

But here's what I can confidently share: when you take the time to "taste and see that the Lord is good," you'll discover that offering yourself as a living sacrifice for Him is not just a commitment; it transforms into a heartfelt desire. I truly felt that He is undeniably worthy, and the goodness of His nature compels us to live our lives sacrificially for Him.