Because I am about to be that girl. The good one who never forgets her bible for church & is the perfect fifteen minutes early church goer. The one often dubbed 'Bible thumper' & the epitome of an overly sensitive Christian.
But, breathe through these words as thoughts from a lover of the King. I count this as consideration to a God most high. & I am a lover of loving him. A delighter. A spirit-infested woman who sees grace that flows freer than the ocean waves, in constant ebb & flow. & by all means, I will love him & speak his heart to the fullest.
I've promised him what he gives me, I will share.
So take ear to some whispers in the wind.
Sometimes concert crowds freak me out.
Not in the sense of the area being overpopulated. Not even in the sense of the moshing, although it does flicker my concentration from the great vibrations to the angry heaps launching across the floor, usually in my direction.
What actually gets me are the raised hands.
Lift the hands another so many degrees & the death medal arm thrusts begin to resemble the pastor's wives' air taps. Instead of the eyes synchronizing the crane arm with the band in front on stage, the eyes lift with the hands to praise the God in the sky.
It's all so alike, except one thing.
The concert crowds are altogether more passionate & awestruck. Those people know how to worship in ways that if brought into the house of the Lord would tremble it's holy foundations to the very core.
But the thing is, I am on your side. I, too, sing to God no different than I would sing to my earthly father. Every once in a while my hands go into the air & some side swaying action takes place. No more, no less. Because raised arms are passion & the side sway is accepted by both the conservatives & charismatics.
& I am beginning to think the root of this message walks a tightrope between two separate messages.
A word of caution & the potential of a worshiper.
I am with the band.
I mean, my boyfriend's in one. So I feel that. I cannot say I have never been one of those girls who fought my way to the front of the stage to sing at the top of my lungs to the band lyrics.
I've had the I am a true fan because I know all their songs by heart moment(s). Unfortunately that's plural.
I pose no objection to a God-filled being loving them some concerts. Have it up. They are fun & lively. Dance. Scream. Throw your hands toward the band, begging for a hint of attention or the slightest touch.
& then take that worshipper to church & in your car & in your bedroom & in your workplace.
Because worshipping isn't an occasion. It's a lifestyle.
{PSALM 136 }
Give thanks to the Lord for he is good!
His love endures forever.
Give thanks to the God of gods.
His love endures forever.
Give thanks to the Lord of lords.
His love endures forever.
Give thanks to him who alone does mighty miracles.
His love endures forever.
Give thanks to him who made the heavens so skillfully.
His love endures forever.
Give thanks to him who placed the earth among the waters.
His love endures forever.
Give thanks to him who made the heavenly lights --
His love endures forever.
the sun to rule the day,
His love endures forever.
& the moon & the stars to rule the night.
His love endures forever.
Worshipping is an act of gratitude.
We worship because we are thankful. We feel like God has loaded us up with good things & carried us through the areas where the sharks fester, in search of dessert. When we see all he has done & the faithful, actively-extended hands upholding our lives,
it makes us want to shout.
Thankfulness precedes worship. Worship is developed by thankfulness. & gratitude fills empty hallelujahs & raises beaten down arms.
But we know this. Because the most opportune time to worship is on the Sundays when the worship team is playing our favorite songs & when life is good & promising. When I see God's goodness poured into my life with no particular end time in mind? This is worshipping made easy. It is meaningful, but, never the less, easy.
So how do we worship when things aren't on the upswing? When we can't see the path in front of us because we're struggling to climb out of the booby trap pit?
Remember.
When the blessings are yesterday's news, still count them.
I catch myself, telling myself that old things aren't still blessings. But how that contradicts my hearts gratitude that blooms amongst the lingering memories.
Today, I caught thankfulness seeping in through another woman's stories.
- I am so thankful my mom packed my lunches.
I scolded my innocence with age. You cannot be thankful for that. You were young. You are an adult now & those days are so gone. That doesn't count.
But I shush that voice, recognizing the falsehood behind his disguise. Because thankfulness flourishes in the presence of recognizing, & lasts in the presence of remembrance.
So today is Thanksgiving in Canada. & I'll take it.
Because this message has been leaving my soul to find no dry ground. I am wandering through these words, tossing them back & forth, hoping to find some rhythm. Hoping to find some release. Satisfaction. So when I saw the small capital lettered THANKSGIVING DAY (CANADA), I took it as God saying he's ready.
Because worshipping & thankfulness doesn't have to wait for Thanksgiving.
2. Thank you for the cross.
3. Thank you for the blood.
4. Thank you for a call, interview, & new job.
5. Thank you for a first day.
6. Thank you for your timing.
7. Thank you for happy endings.
8. Thank you for my mom-packed lunches.
& I pray you make my worship on Sundays resemble more closely my worship in the car & my jam sessions with Taylor Swift.
No comments:
Post a Comment