The One who calls me calls is. He is loving, He is wrathful, and He powerful. Just the hem of His rob fills my entire worship space. The voice of His frightening choir shakes what I thought immoveable. I see Him and am ruined, so His attendant purifies me with fire. He takes care of everything preventing me from hearing the call and jumping into it with everything I am. He asks, offers the opportunity to engage in the service of One who employs terrifying four-winged flying monsters, and people like me. He clearly has tremendous range in tastes. But all is holy, nothing profane or common. And that includes me, who must be purified and forgiven as I confess my ruin. I will worship Him in the progression of my obedience.
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