I close my eyes and the world falls away. The stuffy gym and the sweaty guy next to me and the fact that I really should have gone to the bathroom all disappear. The music echoes in my mind and the words form vivid images of soaring angels and a God bigger than the world yet He still holds me close. A guitar string broke, one of the singers lead with ‘Father’ instead of ‘Spirit’ and the sound of ripping Velcro to my right all tried to pull my heart from the moment. But as I sang the words in my scratchy, off-key voice I imagined a shield of grace coming down around me as I sang praises to my God. Worship isn’t about being comfortable and having the perfect atmosphere. It’s not about all the right songs at all the right tempos with just the right orchestration. It’s about where my heart is. It’s about glorifying God. Nothing else matters. My aching feet and the desire to sit down don’t matter. If it’s that big of a deal I can fall down on my knees. God deserves my attention now, not the subtle, nit-picky mistakes.
Holy, holy, holy
Lord God Almighty.