That Time Spanish Made Me Cry

If you know me at all, you know that I'm a crier. If you don't know me, Hello. My name is Alexis, and it has been zero days since the last time that I cried. What can I say? Things effect me. Show me the Procter & Gamble "Thank You Mom" commercial from the 2012 Olympics or Jeep's tribute to our troops from this year's Superbowl and expect waterworks.  As active as my tear ducts may be, however, I don't usually burst into tears in the middle of Spanish 204 as I did today. It's not what you might think. Yes, Spanish 204 is ridiculously hard and frustrating, but I wasn't crying because I was having a hard time understanding the lesson, or because no teacher should be allowed to assign the amount of work that we received today.

My teacher loves to talk about Spain and she loves to pass around pictures from her time there. Today, she passed around a book about the different monuments and landmarks that draw travelers from around the globe. As I was sitting at my desk, slowly browsing through page after page of beautiful photos of one of the mosques in Córdoba, I was amazed at the time and effort put into the architecture. The thought almost immediately crossed my mind, "How sad that all that beauty and intricate design was wasted on a place where so many people go to offer worship to a god that is inexistent and a god that does not hear them." I continued to flip through the book, and came across pictures of a gorgeous cathedral that was build right down the street from the mosque. I started to think, "That's better. At least someone spent their money and creative energy on a place where people go to worship the real God." But my thought was interrupted by the Holy Spirit.

"Man has labored in vain. Striving to make their places of worship beautiful, they have neglected what I desire most: worship that comes from a pure heart. They come before me on parade, showing off their good deeds like trophies, but they have missed the whole point. I don't want a show or a great display of the talents I have given them. I want them to draw near to me." And THAT'S when I started crying.

I don't think that even one of us could say that we have not been guilty of this. We decorate our 'worship' with beautiful adornments that we think the Father will delight in, and we miss His call to come and be with Him; to worship Him in the stillness of His presence. How many times have I invited Him into my place of worship and spent the first portion of my time with Him giving Him a tour of the great places I have built in vain? He does delight in my deeds and in the fruit that my life bears, but He desires my heart. My plain, simple, unadorned heart.