To Live is Christ — before His throne

When I was a teen, meeting a celebrity was a big thrill. I have pictures of myself with a famous singer. We loved to look for stars at every parade and big event. However, I got over it, partly because I realized stars are people just like everyone else. They have good days and bad, and they are super stars only in their field of expertise.

We know a famous preacher who regularly misplaces his car keys. I’ve met many well-known authors whose quirks and foibles are just like mine. One locked herself in a public washroom. Another spent an afternoon shopping before she realized her skirt was on inside-out. One considered a super saint became crabby at a lunch in her honor. Ordinary folks, all of them. And having an audience with the queen or talking to a head of state would not be a big deal either. While I respect those who have positions of responsibility, I’m not in anyone’s fan club.

I’m saying this because there is One in whose presence I sometimes tremble. I’m also totally astounded that He wants me to talk to Him every day, even continually, all day. This is the Lord of hosts, the Creator of the Universe, God Almighty, my King and my Savior. Me? He wants to talk? He listens to me?

But certainly God has heard me; He has attended to the voice of my prayer. Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, nor His mercy from me! (Psalm 66:19–20)

In the ancient world, at least one kingdom had a rule that if you approached the king without his express invitation, he would put you to death. Yet God invites His people to approach Him. This is utterly incredible.

The New Testament says that it is through the shed blood of Jesus Christ that I have access to God. He earned for me the privilege. It is not my doing nor could it be, for I have no worth apart from Christ. I certainly have nothing that would allow me to come before the throne of a holy God, never mind talk with Him. Yet He invites me, just as the writer of Hebrews affirms, and even more . . . 

Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

Sometimes I try to imagine this happening in a visual and literal sense. God is seated on His throne. Light brighter than the sun. Colors beyond the rainbow’s spectrum. Gold’s sheen pales compared to His glory. No diamond is as bright. He is holy, pure, powerful. I am lowly and in need. I know that He can do anything. Nothing is too difficult.

Then He leans toward me and says, “Tell me about it.”

And at that — I become undone.