Beyond Gratitude

“Thank you” is easy.

We prod a toddler to express appreciation for a cupcake, his mouth still blue from the frosting, his hands still sticky.

Later we compel a reluctant adolescent to write a note thanking his grandparents for the sweatshirt bearing the logo of a baseball team he despises.

Later still we ask the newlyweds if they have thanked Aunt Bethany for the casserole dishes and the Smiths for the gift card.

It may take some nagging (sometimes directed at ourselves), but “Thank you” gets said.

But how do you say, “I adore you”?

Earlier this year, the ladies’ Bible study group at my church worked through the book When You Pray. Each week we discussed our homework assignments and watched a video featuring that session’s speaker. One teacher, Jen Wilkin, talked about how important it is to focus on the adoration of God in our prayers.

Sure. We don’t sing “O come, let us adore Him,” in “O, Come, All Ye Faithful,” a dozen times for nothing.

But it’s hard for me to adore God without slipping into gratitude. I start thinking of God as the Maker of sunsets, children, honey, and roses and move effortlessly to thanking Him.

Gratitude is worthy and necessary. However, God deserves to be appreciated for Who He is, not only for what He does.

It’s easy to talk to God about His creation, since my senses are flooded by its beauty. God is present in everything I can perceive, but He is also above and beyond it. Outside of time, outside of the world as I know it, yet intimately involved in the lives of each of His children.

Transcendent.

Omniscient.

Omnipresent.

Holy.

Words are my currency. I use them to describe beauty and ugliness and joy and sorrow as I try to make sense of the world. But no comparison, no metaphor is adequate to describe God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. How can I convey His magnificence?

Where do I begin?

With Jesus.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it... And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:1-5, 14 (ESV)

The writers of the book of Psalms were inspired by God to write ringing hymns of praise, cries of lamentation and brokenhearted confessions. Some psalmists were even given glimpses of the Messiah in His suffering and His victory. I’m learning that a psalm can speak for me when I can’t pin down my own thoughts.

Those poets, however, saw only in part. We have the Word, God-in-the-Flesh, Jesus Christ, revealed in Scripture and by the Holy Spirit. When I read the Gospels, I can hear His voice and sense the tenderness of His divine heart.

I can love Him for so many reasons, including the fact that He was willing to die for me. I can adore Him, and the Father, and the Spirit.

And there’s the final hurdle. Adoration can’t be done halfway. For me to adore God is to go all in for Him. No holding back. I can’t reserve even a square inch of a throne for myself.

I’m willing, Lord. Take me the rest of the way.