O Lord,
You repeat again and again these offerings are holy.
Not casual, not common, not to be taken lightly.
But I confess, Father, I often treat Your presence
like something ordinary,
something I can rush through,
something I can handle without reverence.
I confess that gratitude does not always rise quickly in me.
I grumble more than I give thanks,
I complain more than I rejoice,
I forget that even breath itself is a gift.
I approach You distracted, hurried, ungrateful.
Forgive me, Lord, for trampling holy ground with careless feet.
Yet still You invite me to the table.
The peace offering becomes a fellowship meal
You, the priest, the people all sharing in the same sacrifice.
What a wonder that the God of heaven
welcomes sinners to sit and eat in His presence.
That You not only forgive,
but You feast with me.
So I come, Lord
hungry, unworthy, trembling.
Feed me with Yourself.
Let thanksgiving rise in me like incense.
Let holiness shape the way I live,
so that all of life becomes a sacred offering.
May my worship not be a duty,
but a feast of joy in Your presence.
Amen.