Lord God,
You are the Covenant-Maker,
the One who spoke not from the heavens afar,
but from the fire near the mountain.
You did not whisper from a distance
You thundered in holiness,
that Your people might tremble and live.
You are not a God of silence or secrecy.
You speak so that we may know You,
and in knowing, learn to fear You rightly.
You call us not merely to hear Your commandments,
but to bind them to our hearts,
to live as a people marked by Your word.
I confess, Lord,
how easily I forget the sacredness of Your voice.
I rush into Your presence,
but seldom bow before Your holiness.
I hear Your Word,
but treat it as counsel,
not covenant.
Forgive me, O Lord,
for how lightly I have treated what is weighty,
for how often I have sought Your blessings
without yielding to Your authority.
You gave the Ten Commandments
not as chains,
but as paths of life.
You called Your people to worship You alone,
to keep Your name holy,
to rest in Your Sabbath,
to honor family,
to preserve life,
to guard covenant,
to tell the truth,
to be content.
Every command is a reflection of Your heart
a revelation of who You are.
To obey You is to know You;
to follow You is to love You.
You spoke to Israel through Moses,
because Your voice shook the earth.
Yet in Christ, You have spoken once more
the same holy fire,
but now clothed in grace.
Where Israel stood afar,
You drew near.
Where fear once silenced hearts,
Your Son has opened the way.
O Lord,
let my obedience be born of love,
not fear.
Let reverence fill my heart,
but let it be joined to joy.
Teach me to delight in Your law,
for it is not a burden,
but a blessing.
Let me hear Your commandments
as words of covenant intimacy,
not cold legality
for You are a Father speaking to His children.
You said, “Oh that they had such a heart as this always,
to fear Me and keep My commandments.”
Lord, give me such a heart.
Not a momentary zeal,
but a lasting devotion.
Not a trembling that fades,
but a love that endures.
Write Your law upon my heart,
etch it deeper than emotion,
seal it stronger than circumstance.
And when I forget,
remind me again that Your covenant is not upheld by my perfection,
but by Your promise.
Christ has kept the law I could not keep,
and through His righteousness,
I am brought near to the Holy One who spoke from the fire.
So I rest, Lord,
not in my obedience,
but in Yours.
And yet, because of that rest,
I long to obey
to honor Your voice,
to walk in Your ways,
to live as one bound to Your covenant love.
In the name of Jesus,
the Mediator of a better covenant,
whose blood speaks a better word than the fire on Sinai,
Amen.