In my dreams I saw an altar
Where Christians made offerings to their Lord
Placing items they considered valuable
Sometimes more than they could afford
I saw piles of jewels, of money
Of good deeds and generous acts
Of selflessness, charity and sacrifice
On the altar in immense stacks
I saw theological education, degrees
And certificates of training
Worship songs that had been written
A multitude of paper falling, raining,
But what occupied pride of place
Amongst the varied worship gifts
Was a small, almost unseen, item
That onto the altar many did lift
It was a human heart, a soul,
A person's essence deep within
Which had without exception
Once been destroyed by disobedience and sin
The loving God had wept
At this horrific desecration of beauty
And to healing and restoration
Had been His Self-entrusted duty
He saved us by His Blood
He restored us by His Spirit
An amazing miracle to celebrate
A powerful message if we hear it
It's not whether you sit in silence
Or raise your voice and sing
You worship when you place yourself
In offering to the King.
Worship is you and God, as lovers,
Celebrating what you share
A oneness, union, relationship
Of adoration, love and care
The Church, your brothers and sisters,
May worship alongside you
Don't worry if their ways are different
Worship is what you, not what they, do
The church service is merely a context
For your worship in which you say
Dear Lord God, thank you so much for saving me
I honour you, Father…this is your day!
