What's to be of worship

I know some of you are waiting for me to return to the "God said...I promise" series and we will... I promise (no pun intended!) I was all set to dive back in this week, but my heart has been heavy and consumed with what I thought was a healed hurt.... however, I found out that wasn't the case...

I grew up in a house that was always full of music. My dad played guitar and sang to me and when I was old enough we sang together...it was a common occurrence in my house. My dad played multiple instruments and I learned various instruments too. My grandmother use to make up little songs and sing them to me. I remember standing in her kitchen helping her with the dishes singing all kinds of little choruses.

Of course, in church I learned every hymn, sang every vacation bible school number that there ever was. I sang in the church choir and was in every possible cantata the holidays could bring. Music was always a part of me. It was a big form of expression for me. If something was going to stir my heart....it was going to be put to music. If God wanted to speak to me, it was through a song.

I'll never forget singing with the Philharmonic. The first time I stepped onto the stage at the gorgeous Embassy theater and heard the symphony strike the first chords and the chorus belt out the first "Hallelujah" of the "Hallelujah Chorus" I was sobbing puddle of tears. The sound enveloped me and made me stand in awe of the amazing lyrics and notes combining to worship our God in such an overwhelming piece of music. The conductor looked at me like I had three heads....but all I could think about was how this must be what it is like in Heaven when the Heavenly hosts sing and bow down at the throne.

But one small group of people made me feel like my worship wasn't worthy and diminished my love for music in such a way that I had no desire to ever open up my lungs and let God move through my vocal chords. I felt like the skin had been ripped off of me when that happened. The pain was so deep and so raw.  I remember shutting that part of my soul off. And it was a number of years before I ever was brave enough to revisit that part of me.

Last year, I finally stepped up to the microphone again. It was with a lot of fear and trembling that I stood on stage behind one of the most passionate worship leaders I know. Something about her made me feel safe and the church in which I was in ( and still am in) made me feel like I could let down my guard and worship freely again.

Slowly I let that well bubble up again...deep down in my heart. With each Sunday, it would gain a little more power. When I had the opportunity to lead and step out in front...I was horrifically terrified and fear almost kept me frozen in place, but I pushed through and I did it. Again...I gained more courage.

But with time comes change and that is where I have been all week. Our worship band is morphing into a new direction. All those involved were asked to come together today to discuss the direction of our group. All week I have been a twisted knot over this impending meeting. All week I kept feeling the sense of fear. Last night I was physically sick over the meeting today.... so overwhelmed with the unknown, so concerned with the future of our group, so anxious to see God blow a strong breath of His presence over us all, so unclear on where I would fit in this new design.

I wanted to be able to confidently say, "Pick me to lead.... I know I can do this... I know I should do this...I know this is the desire God has put in my heart and in my soul." but fear, rooted in an old wound kept me silent...kept me uncertain...made me second guess what I have been wrestling with for months now.  Looking at my predecessor, all I could see was my inability. Looking at her gifts, all I could see was how mine paled  in comparison. It wasn't humility....it was fear..it was insecurity and it was the devil wanting to rip the band-aid off that old wound. He wanted to twist the knife, to make it bleed, to make it hurt.

What the church leadership decides to do with the future of our worship band...I don't know. In what capacity will they choose to use me....I don't know.  What I do know is that time and time again God asks for us to bring Him our fear, our insecurity, our doubts... He simply replaces that with His confidence, His promises and His truth. When I look at my scars and my past... He simply points to the cross where they all hung on the shoulders of His Son. When I ask, "Why me? How can you choose me? Why do you want me?" ...He opens His arms and wraps me there in His love and calls me by name and tells me I am His own.

And then He reminds me..... that nothing can stop a heart from truly worshiping Him. Nothing can silence a heart passionate to sing His praises. Nothing can squelch a heart gushing with love for the Savior.  And in that moment, and out of that heart -- there is no amount of instruments that could sound more beautiful.