I walked into a church one day and felt inspired by my
surroundings—
A plethora of young adults,
A sea of plaid and flannel on top of denim,
Simple gymnasium converted to a place of worship,
Nothing pretentious, nothing over-the-top religious—
To hope that I would feel and be moved by the service, by
the worship, that maybe I would feel connected to what was going on that
morning in that place.
I recalled the prayers I used to pray in church service, the
prayers we’re supposed to pray to do our part in bringing the Holy Spirit to
worship each weekend. I let loose
With prayers inviting the Spirit to be present,
With prayers asking God to use this service to change and
soften my heart,
With prayers using words like brokenness and flooding and presence.
I said my familiar prayers and then realized that a few of
the words were empty, but I had still prayed them anyways, old habits dying
hard. I don’t pray now in the same way, with the same words that I used to. But
my surroundings brought out prayers that don’t relate to me anymore, not the
way they used to. Maybe I was just trying to feel like I belonged, like I fit in
well with this crowd of young and casual faces that look so much like me, that
should fit with me.
As the worship choruses began, people around were beginning
to raise their hands. I expected some clapping or some dancing, but I kept
searching the crowd and only saw standing, solid like trees standing with some
arms uplifted like limbs to the sky. And I almost lifted my arms as well, but I
stopped myself because I wasn’t sure yet whether that was a real feeling or
just another vestige from my previous life as a church-goer.
I waited and listened and joined in on a few songs but kept
noticing words that didn’t fit, words that I couldn’t sing honestly—you can’t
worship God by lying to Him, can you? So I closed my mouth and kept watching
the words popping up on the screen. I remembered what they were supposed to
mean, but they didn’t mean anything anymore, not to me. This wasn’t my version
of God, these songs and their words weren’t related in any way to how I
experience Spirit in my life. So finally, I just sat and closed my eyes and
thought about the fact that I could be dozing and everyone around me would just
think I was deep in prayer.
I pondered on this experience the rest of the day. Why
couldn’t I do that anymore? Why couldn’t I feel church the way the rest of the
people in that service appeared to be feeling church? What had changed about me
that made a worship service feel so different than it used to?
The feelings, the experience I was expecting to come over me
in church, I still have that, not at church, but I still have that. The worship
feeling—
The unexpected surge of joy from deep inside,
A pure, spontaneous delight,
The sense of wonderment and fascination,
Being stopped in your tracks by something that holds your
attention effortlessly—
I’m filled with worship feeling most every day, in some way.
And I realized that since I’ve stopped going to church, I notice God so much
more in the rest of my days. I’m looking for God everywhere instead of asking
Him to show up to meet me on Sunday mornings. God always seems to be popping up,
In things big and small,
In the most mundane, everyday things,
In the most exquisite and unique things,
In the previously passed-over and unnoticed things
That have always been there right in front of my nose, but I
never had eyes to see them before.
And they keep popping up and surprising me
and causing me to laugh out loud in wonder, and they make me bubble over, and
they make my eyes grow large and shine with joy.
Like the earwig I found once in the sink who was trying so
hard to slither up the smooth sides to escape with no success. But he kept
trying, and he was so brave and determined and tenacious, and I admired him so
much and so enjoyed watching how he moved and how delicate and strong he was.
Like the other day on my walk when the sun shone brightly
and the wind seemed to be playing with the tree limbs and with my hair from
every direction at once, and even the rain that fell from the bright blue sky
was playful and free. And that any-direction kind of wind with it’s
every-direction showers made me feel like I could go anywhere and discover
anything that I could possibly imagine, and I was filled with a sense of having
complete freedom.
Like every time I hear a flock of geese flying overhead and
turn my face up to find them, to see them, to witness their glorious flight and
soak in their joyful calls.
Like the day when I sat reading a book and was taken with the
shadow of leaves that came through my window and was dancing on my book. And I
told my husband how delightful it was to be reading a book and watching the leaves
dance at the same time. It was magic!
And in all these moments and in all the other ones too, I
find myself worshiping. And by that I mean I find myself saying thank you. I
find myself feeling grateful that I am alive and that everything else around me
is alive and that it all is just so beautiful. And my heart fills with joy and
I just want to break forth with dancing and singing and shout out loud to tell
everyone of the glory of the universe. And my heart feels full, and I am
blessed beyond all measure.
And I guess maybe this is what I was praying for in church.
Because when you are at church, you want to feel that worship feeling, you want
to feel blown away by God’s awesomeness, you want to be carried away by joy.
You want to believe that the Spirit will show up and the congregation will
break forth in dancing and singing and be filled with the joy of the Lord. And
then it happens sometimes, and it is beautiful and touching. And then all the
other times it doesn’t, and maybe you weren’t praying hard enough, or maybe you
just weren’t focused on God enough or maybe you just need to find a different
church that is more in tune with God. And so you keep trying to figure out how
to bring God to church with you on Sundays, and you forget that God is right
there in front of you
On Mondays and Tuesdays,
On Wednesdays and Thursdays
Even on Fridays and Saturdays too,
That God is there every second of every day if you are
traveling through life with your eyes and ears and heart open and searching and
you’ll witness Him being
Glorious and beautiful,
And overwhelming and spectacular,
Being small and quiet and inconspicuous,
Being alive and growing and changing
Being still and strong and secure
Being surprising and unexpected
Being everything you could ever imagine and more
And if you’re not looking, if you’re not open, you’ll miss
it.
If you’re only looking for God on Sundays, you’ll miss it.
If you only
believe you’ll experience God in your church building, you’ll miss it.
