Last Monday, I was a very disobedient daughter. I woke to prayers spilling out of my lips, and my Father's voice very clearly calling me to worship. "Today, you worship me." Anger overtook me, and all I could think about was how the LAST thing I wanted to do with God, or for God was to worship Him. Wasn't it enough that we were finally on speaking terms after two weeks of grief? Apparently not. . .
I got up, got my day started. . .all the while, that call to join Him in the intimate place of worship was still hammering on my heart. And I was still doing my level best to ignore it. I took the kids to school and went on into my office. And THAT was when things got interesting. I had about an hour before my secretary got in, and I powered up my computer and started some correspondence that needed to be done. I got it all done. . .was just htiting the "send" button when she got there. I went out to the front office to speak to her, and the very moment I walked back into MY office, the power shut down. I turned around to say something to her, and realized the power was on in the rest of the building. . .just not my office. Huh. Weird. Must be a fuse or something. So down to the basement I went, only to find the panel was right as rain. No flipped switches, no nothing. I shut everything down, turned it all back on, and went back upstairs. Nothing. But, it was only on ONE side of the building, and in one space. MY OFFICE. So, I went to the other room, to use the spare computer. I couldn't pull up a single one of my files. . .everyone elses, no problem. But mine were inaccessable no matter what I did. Huh. Weird.
And then, that voice, "Come. . .worship me." Ahh. . .the disobedient daughter now realizes that her Father is making a point.
I told Amanda I was leaving for the day, and went home to get my iPod and let my husband know I'd be unreachable the rest of the day. I headed for my church; a place where I could be "alone" in a sea of people.
I managed to find a quiet corner in the chapel only to have God tell me "no" until I realized He wanted me right up front at the altar. Grrrrr. So there I went; turned on the iPod; and waited. Now, understand I'm a worshiper, it's what I do. Music hits my ears and my soul cries out to God. Usually. Most of the time. But not today. Today I must WORK for it. And that really pisses me off. So I find some music that is anything but the typical music I usually use for worship; a little Third Day anybody? A heavy, throbbing beat and Mac Powell's voice in my ears, "Can you hear Him calling? Lift up your face!" This seemed just right - certainly not "angry" music by any means, but definitely not Kim Walker either. Just right.
That is, until the words begin to sink in. And then God started with the pictures. As soon as I realized the words were having an effect, I began to see the images He was laying on my heart. When it was over with, I was on my face, worship pouring out of not just my heart, but my lips as well. My Deliverer found me there, with a resistant spirit, an angry heart, and clenched lips. . .and He released me from the bondage that had held me for weeks. My grief began to slip; the strongest holds were broken, and for the first time in weeks I saw the Father who was grieving with me, not laughing at me. I saw the face of the one Whose own heart was aching when my son left this world and arrived in Eternity. This was the moment when God became Papa again - gone was the judge who'd deemed me unworthy of being a mother again, and here was the Father whose arms were my refuge.
Worship - it breaks serious bondage.
No comments:
Post a Comment