We were in our new van so Vitaliy *and I* could relax, and I was, as usual, running here and there helping the girls–taking Skyla to the potty, getting them food, toys, etc. . . . Frustration, that infiltrating kind that builds up silently inside, started overtaking my heart, and pretty soon, I birthed out sin in my words to Vitaliy, sharply pointing out my state of non-relaxation.
Vitaliy, my king of care and patience, took over with the girls and I guiltily picked up my Bible to start my reading for that day . . . Leviticus. . . . And the Lord opened up a treasure in this unlikely spot of Scripture reading.
Chapter one describes the procedure for offering a whole burnt offering. Living in Ukraine, I see more animal parts and organs in the store than I saw in the States. Maybe that’s why the words became so vivid. . . . Cut up the body, lay the pieces on the altar, wash off the organs, lay them on the altar, put the fat on the altar, burn it ALL.
This became real to me, applied to me. Romans 12: I am the living sacrifice. Are my arms and legs tired from serving others? Cut them off from my selfishness and lay them on the altar. Is my heart offended from self-pity? Wash it off and lay it on the altar. Is my mind wanting to plan and satisfy my own desires? Wash it off and lay it on the altar.
And burn it all up in God’s holy fire.
The more I pondered this image, the more I realized. . . . A burnt offering leaves ashes. But in this case, it’s a living sacrifice. So from the living ashes grow fruit–patience, joy, meekness . . .
From the ashes grows the person I long to be in Christ.
Leviticus 6 instructs the Israelites to offer a whole burnt offering every day.
Yes, Lord, here I am, on the altar, every day.