The voice on the other side of the radio tells of the woman who knelt before the feet of the Savior and she let her hair fall onto the dusty floor and wept as it blanketed His feet.
In the midst of men who were horrified and maybe a servant or two who would speculate later among themselves, she poured out what she had for Him and Him alone.
He forgave lavishly and she responded extravagantly.
Adoration feels awkward.
Like a tongue twister that gets muddled up between all the s's and w's and th's. As though a mouth has grown slow and a tongue thick and what is written plainly in front of you somehow falls apart.
Like alabaster breaking open and perfume leaking out in an uncontainable mess, she could have stopped there, reeled back - just as horrified as the men that surrounded her. She could have cowered in embarrassment as she heard their words, looked at their eyes. She could have realized that what she did was too much, too elaborate...
But instead,
out of the messy and the broken of what she laid before Him, intense and penetrating beauty filled the air around her, around Him and her adoration, however clumsy, however extreme, ministered to the very heart of God.
I thought adoration would come easy,
but it doesn't.
The natural language of the tongue does not lean towards the holy.
The sin stain is buried deep.
So it breaks open, messy, laid bear in all of its imperfection
and it is there, in the messy, in the imperfect that He asks me to come. To close my ears to the voices around me and to open my eyes to Him alone - to let the pouring out empty myself of me and spill out onto the holiness of Him and somehow, incredibly, my feeble and awkward attempts actually minister to very heart of God.
There is a transforming that happens in the quiet of the practice of Adoring and it changes the air of a soul and draws my heart towards Him,
and incredibly,
it draws His heart to me.
When you know how much Jesus loves you, and you love him back, it’s the beginning of your passionate, worshipful, generous relationship, and everything changes. Jesus also deals with her sin. He doesn’t excuse her many sins; he forgives her. What Jesus did for that woman he did for other women who followed him, and he continues to do for even more women today. ~Mark Driscoll
