Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.
Romans 12:1 (NIV)
So here’s what I want you to do…Take your everyday, ordinary life — your sleeping, eating, going to work, and walking around life — and place it before God as an offering.
Romans 12:1 (the Message)
I’m in the middle of re-writing a draft of what will become the first of a three-part inspirational romance series.
And I’ve got kissing on the brain.
Nearing the last several chapters of book #1, Everly Scott, the heroine, and Gabe Bellevue, the hero, find themselves alone on the balcony of Everly’s 1846 plantation house, a run down inheritance of epic proportions, no thanks to her free-spirited, dream-chasing mother.
A discovery in the attic reveals a truth that sets Everly free from a lie she believes and heals her heart to love again.
As I’ve written it, the scene is rife with lovesick, romantic tension. Having them enjoy a kiss feels timely and appropriate, yet I’m hesitant.
For good reason.
Because a kiss is still sacred.
They’ve already shared two kisses earlier in the story. I could so easily have them lip-locked again for several steamy seconds or merely share an affectionate peck on the lips.
But a kiss is sacred.
Sorry, no. It’ll never qualify as, “No big deal, Mom.”
I don’t live under a rock. I know the idea of treating a kiss with sacred regard isn’t upheld by today’s standards and is rarely ever portrayed that way in secular film and media.
How easy it is for something meant to be significant to become so meaningless that I engage in the act with indifference.
What about prayer? It’s also sacred.
Have I allowed it to become a routine-ish thing I do – somewhat equal to wiping off the kitchen counter? Or do I treat it with reverence, evoking God’s holy presence with a heart, soul, and mind fully engaged?
Then there’s worship. Am I what God would consider a true worshipper? Whether meeting alone with Him or in fellowship with others, are my raised hands and hearty song offered up to God as a holy and sacred kiss?
Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. John 4:23.
The Felkins children have been taught (repeat, they’ve been taught) that a kiss was meant to be treated with respect and dignity, to be shared under circumstances pleasing to God, and shouldn’t be mindlessly exchanged with others like a baseball card.
So, back to Everly and Gabe…
As much as I want them to kiss at this juncture in the story (and I’m pretty sure they’d like to, as well), I’m making them wait. Otherwise, the happily ever after will leave the reader with an anticlimatic, “So they kissed again. Big deal.”
Because a kiss is still sacred.
And prayer is still sacred.
And worship is still sacred.
My everyday, ordinary life — kisses included — should be placed before God as a sacred offering.
What do you find yourself doing out of mere routine that’s lost its significance? How might you recover that and treat the act with reverence?