Altars

Welcome, welcome.

I was having a conversation with the wife earlier, so I figured that I might share it here also.  Please note that I don't intend to transcribe every conversation we have; you probably wouldn't be interested to listen to the conversation we had about why I wet Josiah's toothbrush but didn't put toothpaste on it, or the one about how hot the bathwater is.

But we did have a reasonably interesting conversation about a couple from Stella's parents church.  Although I don't know them that well (they go to another church after all, and it is important for streams to flow separately (look it up, Hezekiah 6:13)), they are the sort of people who always have a kind word etc.

Anyway, Stella was saying that her dad was saying how when he entered their house, he could feel a sense of peace that was almost tangible (Stella didn't use these words obviously, she shows off less than me).  Because I always have an answer, I observed that this was probably because they pray so often, and also that they have sought after God before anything else that is in the world.

We've been receiving teaching at church recently about prayer altars, and that it is noticeable in the bible, particularly the Old Testament, that there are often physical places where God's presence is drawn; Jacob's stone, Abraham being prepared to sacrifice Isaac.  God opens the heavens over these places, and his presence comes down as people seek him there.  Of course as Christians this is what we want.  Let my house  be like an altar to You God.  Let Your presence be in my house.  Of course.

I guess the thing that has really struck us recently with the TV stuff is that it's not enough just to make efforts to pray though; it is also essential that we stop allowing the worship of other worldly idols as well.  (Please note, it is now about 24 hours since I started and stopped writing this piece).  If we want our homes to be under an open heaven, altars drawing the presence of God, we need to be sure that there is nothing else being worshipped there.

So anyway, we've been listening to Matt Redman's The Friendship And The Fear today, an album I hadn't listened to for years.  It has seriously, seriously dated.  More so than the rolling pianos from Cutting Edge 1, more than that slightly muffled electric sound everything had when Dwayne Larring produced in around 2000.  Stella described funky classic Can I Ascend The Hill Of The Lord as "the worst song ever".  However, two extraordinary worship songs: The Way Of The Cross, and the title track.  The former is stunning, and just a timeless cry of a heart that recognises we need to do more to follow after Christ.  May it always be our genuine desire.

In other news, let it be established here: Manchester United will lift the UEFA Champions League this season.

Better posts will follow this one.  Shalom.