The heart of a worshipper is a heart arrested and set free by the love of God.
Gangai VictorTag: love god worship heart-of-worship
If Jesus is not the focus, the worship is bogus.
Gangai VictorTag: christianity jesus worship christ worship-leading
Worship must occupy us full-time for a lifetime because our final destination is Heaven—it’s no place for part-time lovers!
Gangai VictorTag: christianity heaven worship worship-leading
Leading worship is about a heart that craves to magnify the Lord!
Gangai VictorTag: christianity heart worship lord worship-leading
If the Cross is God’s masterpiece of His love, then the Eucharist is the centerpiece of our worship.
Gangai VictorTag: christianity god jesus worship christ eucharist eucharistic-worship
We are like the moon. The moon shines anyway, but it does not produce its own light. It reflects the light illuminated onto its surface by the Sun and is never proud to say "I am the source of light". God shines through us, hence He deserves the glory; not us.
Israelmore AyivorTag: reflect love god sun humility moon light reflection bible jesus own shine worship glory pride sermon praise food-for-thought jesus-christ adoration clergy humble planets christ sunshine honour illumination glow ability illuminate blessing preaching surface shines pastor human-beings word-of-god solar-system proud source bishop reflects produce radiates israelmore-ayivor shining king-of-kings glowing god-loves-me glorify god-is-good light-rays lord-of-lords luminary owner praise-the-lord work-for-god
God is not an audiophile demanding the best possible stage sound.
Gangai VictorTag: christianity god worship worship-leading
You get to decide what to worship.
David Foster WallaceTag: life identity decisions worship choices
We live in a world that worships limitations
Tama J. KievesTag: inspirational worship limitations
Later, long after my grandfather was dead, I would regret that I could never be the kind of man that he was. Though I adored him as a child and found myself attracted to the safe protectorate of his soft, uncritical maleness, I never wholly appreciated him. I did not know how to cherish sanctity, and I had no way of honoring, of giving small voice to the praise of such natural innocence, such a generous simplicity. Now I know that a part of me would like to have traveled the world as he traveled it, a jester of burning faith, a fool and a forest prince brimming with the love of God. I would like to walk his southern world, thanking God for oysters and porpoises, praising God for birdsongs and sheet lightning, and seeing God reflected in pools of creekwater and the eyes of stray cats. I would like to have talked to yard dogs and tanagers as if they were my friends and fellow travelers along the sun-tortured highways, intoxicated with a love of God, swollen with charity like a rainbow, in the thoughtless mingling of its hues, connecting two distant fields in its glorious arc. I would like to have seen the world with eyes incapable of anything but wonder, and a tongue fluent only in praise.
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