A Return to Reverence

I cup my mug, steam curling over my fingers as I read: “Then those who feared the Lord talked with each other, and the Lord listened and heard.” I picture a quiet gathering, hushed voices speaking of God’s name, their words drifting upward, caught and cherished. In His presence, a scroll is unfurled, names etched in careful script; each one marked as a treasured possession. I sense the weight of that moment: a Father’s gentle hands sparing His son, compassion flickering in His eyes.

The morning is still. Coffee dark and warm. I thumb through Malachi again, my heart tugged by the words. I pause as the identity in Christ settles-“heard” and “treasured possession.” My chest tightens as I wonder: am I simply in awe, or do I feel that trembling reverence, that fear? I recall “yare”-the Hebrew word flickering at the edge of my mind, meaning to revere, to tremble, to be afraid. My stomach twists, remembering moments when I shrank from disappointing Him, but the edge of true fear feels softened. As I pray, my pen hesitates over the page, longing for a return to reverence, even as His gentle voice whispers, “Do not be afraid, for I am with you.” I see myself-spiritually, a toddler-curious, still learning the boundaries.

My coffee clears my mind for God’s word

“Then those who feared the Lord talked with each other, and the Lord listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in His presence concerning those who feared the Lord and honored His name.  ‘On the day when I act,’ says the Lord Almighty, ‘they will be my treasured possession. I will spare them, just as a father has compassion and spares his son who serves him.” Malachi 3:16-17 (NIV)

His listening is vivid. I picture myself small, tugging at His robe, desperate to be noticed. He kneels, face attentive, hearing my whispered hopes and messy confessions. In that gaze, I feel seen-known, cherished. I linger in the warmth of belonging, the echo of Malachi and Peter (1 Peter 2:9) circling back, wrapping me in the truth: “I am God’s treasured possession.” The phrase lingers like a melody, comforting and steady.

Hope flickers-His promise to spare, compassion poured out like sunlight through a window. Questions press in: “How have I served You, Lord?” “When have I served You, Lord?” I trace their edges, feeling my own inconsistency. The blank space where blogs should be marks my struggle with obedience. I remember the wrestling-His voice nudging me to write, my reluctance to leave the familiar. I catch myself retreating, clinging to comfort, as His call grows louder.

Awe settles around me, gentle and unthreatening. It’s warm, inviting. Yet, somewhere beneath, my heart detects a missing note-a forgotten fear. If reverence stirred deeper, I’d reach for His word each morning, hunger driving my hands to turn the pages, roots pressing through my hardened heart. Today, I write quietly-honest, humbled. His kindness found me before dawn. I pray the silence isn’t mistaken for indifference; I hope my longing for reverence rises, not His anger.

As Malachi’s message unfolds, it invites us to pause and reflect-not just on awe and belonging, but on the deeper reverence that shapes our relationship with God. The honest wrestling, the longing to be heard, and the comfort in being called His treasured possession, all urge us to examine our own hearts. Are we merely comfortable in our “awe”, or are we moved by a reverent fear that draws us closer and compels us to live out His word? Let this be an invitation: take a moment to search your heart for both awe and reverence, and let God’s kindness lead you to a renewed devotion.