Indifferent

Church on Sunday was... interesting.

After leading worship for the first time in... wow, I can't remember the last time I was involved in something like that--it was in high school, probably. Anyway, I was left with some serious considerations about indifference within the church.

As I was thinking about the congregational response to worship, and about the congregational response to pastor's sermon, one word came to mind--indifferent.

And it wasn't just the congregation. It was me. Pastor preached a sermon challenging all of us to leave our comfort zones and step out to see where the Lord would lead us all for His church, and I sat there, discouraged, yet unwilling to take a step toward the Cross from where I've been viewing it at a distance for a while.

Indifferent. Not caring. Not even really wanting to care. See, the Cross costs, and I don't want it to cost me my life. Yet there is something inside of me that cries out to be consumed by it, to be filled with the glory of my Savior, to fulfill the vows I once made to "go wherever, do whatever." "Stop clinging to what you know!" My spirit cries for a deeper walk with its Maker, for a truer praise for the only One who is worthy of being adored. "Consume me, my heart cries."

There is no object on earth that will ever satisfy that insatiable craving in my soul, and yet I choose indifference.

God, bring me to the Cross...