Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

There are those moments when God really puts us in our place.  They usually surround circumstances we cannot generally control.  I'm a little in shock right now, but I'll get over it quickly when I look to the mass of the ocean (being Him) and not the tiny island I've made for myself ( my plans, times, strength, even my words).  Oh, this is a good view.  I've never feared God at all in comparison to what He is worthy of.  I thought I had Him and His ways all figured out.   "Guess again, Alicia." I made You promises a thousand times I tried to hear from Heaven But I talked the whole time I think I made You too small I never feared You at all No If You touched my face would I know You? Looked into my eyes could I behold You? What do I know of You Who spoke me into motion? Where have I even stood But the shore along Your ocean? Are You fire? Are You fury? Are You sacred? Are You beautiful? What do I know? What do I know of Holy? I guess I thought that

What a privilege to have something so valuable to my heart that its very surrender is seen as the utmost form of worship. Abraham had Isaac. Hannah had her son. The sinful woman had the alabaster flask. The Father had the Son, and the Son had His very life. How grateful am I to have been given something so dear, very dear, to my heart that I may surrender it as worship to God. Maybe a few tears as well. "Now when Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper,  a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he reclined at table.    And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, 'Why this waste?    For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor.'   But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, 'Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me.'"--Matthew 26:6-10

I sit in the same section of seats.  I always sit far off by stage right.  I even congregate by the same people, but since my trip to Europe I see Sundays a little different now. It is only a Sunday. I remember vividly as I unpacked my suitcase  on December 23rd , when I realized the person God had made overseas was colliding with her old life and routine. The only real difference was that the French girl had pillow talks with Jesus.   So there I was today listening to the sermon, but on this side of the Atlantic, I've been feeling a little out if place.  The closer and closer I get to the reality of Christ, the less and less I "need" those services (however, we do need to hear the word preached).  They become less and less about me actually (rather humbling to admit that revelation at this point in the journey).  I would like to give credit to God for why I don't go to church for the same reasons as before.  As an aside, the Spirit has been quick to also