Rebooting Worship Blog

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas season and a happy new year!

I’m back on the blogging bandwagon. I missed the community here (I did peek in occasionally) but I must say, stepping away for a bit was a wise choice. It was nice to spend the Christmas season with my husband, focusing on the celebrating rather than on possible blog posts.

It was good to give my brain a chance to slow down. Funny, by not thinking about the blog so much, I was able to think about the blog more. I’ve had some ideas churning and marinating. I’m hoping to take this blog in a new direction. I’ll be unveiling some of that in the coming weeks.

To give you a bit of heads up on what will be coming, I’m hoping to take the focus off of me. I’ve greatly treasured this space to share and process. Being able to take the gunk out of my head and put it into coherent thoughts in this space has been a saving grace for me. Plus, I’ve discovered that writing is a big way that I worship. I will continue to share some of these “processing” posts, but not as often.

I look forward to sharing some new ideas with you soon!

I’m taking a blogging break in the month of December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared in May of 2012.

 

Music is passionate. It reaches to the depths of a person’s soul. More can be said through music than through mere words alone. Music speaks to people in ways that words or actions never could.

Music is powerful. It makes us relive certain moments in our lives, brings back memories that have laid dormant. It makes us play through imaginary scenes in our heads. I listen to some music and feel like I’m in a movie scene, dramatically acting out the character’s part in my head.

Music is emotional. It tugs at different emotions, depending on the sound. Major keys make us feel happy, at ease, like all is well with the world. Minor keys can make us feel sad, introspective, and moody. A diminished chord makes me feel like something is terribly, horribly wrong.

Music is a lot of things. I would hate to live in a world without music.

I believe all of this is why music is so closely related to worship. God gave us the gift of music, knowing that we could express so much through it, feel so much through it, and love so much through it.

You know what else music is? It’s dangerous.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re all just getting caught up in the emotions of the music, being manipulated to feel certain things that the music is supposed to make us feel. Is it really genuine? Or are we just getting swept up in the emotions that go along with it all?

Are we prepared to sing something so emotionally charged that, come Monday morning, in the silence and drudgery of life, we are not ready to live out?

I know that I have been guilty of getting swept away in the beauty of the music being played before me, and lost sight of what the music was supposed to be glorifying. It became all about the warm fuzzies and good feelings I got out of the song. I’m currently struggling with how to use the worship song for what it is; a tool to  worship God with. The song and chords that make it up are not what my affection should be aimed toward.

Have you ever struggled with getting swept away in a song?

I’m taking a blogging break in the month of December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared in April of 2012.

 

There’s one thing I have to continually remind myself of about worship.

It’s not about me.

Because worship used to give me warm fuzzies and made me feel close to God, I forget that this is not the point of worship. It’s not about what I get out of it. For the longest time, that is what I’ve subconsciously convinced myself it is all about. If I leave worship feeling filled up and energized, then it accomplished what it was supposed to do. If I walk out feeling like, “Well, that didn’t really do it for me,” then it failed miserably.

Where did that train of thinking embed itself into my brain?

Worship is what I can give to God, not what He’s going to give me.

It’s like I walk into church with arms crossed over my chest, looking at God and saying, “Alright, what are you going to give me today? This better be good. I got up early for this.”

Meanwhile, He sits on His throne, offering me the grace He always offers, and doesn’t smite me down like the spoiled little brat in me deserves. He patiently reminds me yet and yet again that He is the one who should be asking the question, “What are you going to give me today?”

So, I’m going to do my best to ask myself that question. What am I going to give Him today?

It doesn’t mean that I need to be on the front row at worship, jumping up and down and shouting His praise. I’ve already determined that that is not how I genuinely worship.

In my case, I think this will involve softening my heart and not being so judgmental during church. Choosing to see His beauty in everything that surrounds me, and being thankful that He is all around me.

What are you going to give Him today?

I am taking a blogging break in the month of December. During my break, I am reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared December of 2011. 

I hope everyone has a very blessed Christmas!

 

I am old enough to remember records being played in my house while growing up. Tapes made their appearance during my childhood, but in my household, records were played on our big family stereo. I remember each December, my parents would pull out the special box of Christmas music. I vaguely remember a cartoon-like snowman across the cover of one and maybe a nutcracker emblazoned across another. The album art may not be set in my memory, but the songs that played certainly were.

I love Christmas music. My husband is not fond of the fact that I could listen to it 24/7 once Thanksgiving is over, but I spare him and try to do it when he’s not around. I could probably sing you any and every Christmas song ever written. Even the obscure verses that most people don’t know. It’s a gift, really.

Sacred Christmas songs never get old and have always seemed worshipful. I don’t know if it’s the timeless melodies or the stories behind them. I think a lot has to do with those old records that my parents pulled out and dusted off every year. They were special, sacred and saved for once a year. I have fond memories of the fuzzy, clicking tracks on the records as they played throughout the final month of the year. I remember being intrigued by songs like Old King Wenceslas and Good Christian Men Rejoice. (I also remember being surprised in middle school to discover that Sleigh Ride had words. For years, the only version I heard was the instrumental as my sister and I galloped across the living room on our imaginary horses.)

Whatever the reason, if I hear O Little Town of Bethlehem or O Holy Night, I feel at peace. The words have depth, mystery, and they pull me in every time (well, unless it’s Mariah Carey singing them. Then I can’t change the channel fast enough.)

During Christmas, I love to hear pipe organs and orchestras pounding out the melodies and chords of these familiar songs. I do love rock bands, but during Christmas, the classical music snob in me comes out. It feels more sacred and “holy” for some reason.

I love the story of Christmas and how it’s been captured by so many songwriters throughout the years. It’s priceless.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I’m thankful that something that has been so special to me for so many years is still special. I’ve become jaded about a lot, but I don’t feel overly cynical or judgmental when I hear Christmas songs. That’s really refreshing for me. They simply make me smile, and for that I’m grateful.

Question: Is there a special song (Christmas or not) that has remained special to you throughout the years?

I’m taking a blogging break in the month of December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared in March of 2012.

 

Church would be a wonderful place if it weren’t for all the people.

I’m coming to grips with the fact that I have resentments toward church people. I thought I had processed through some of it, but I’m learning that it comes back and bites me in the butt when I least expect it.

Like many others, I’ve been burned by people in the church. Church committees that make stupid decisions I can’t get behind; friends that have been used and abused for their talents; a vicious rumor that someone decided to start about me and someone else.

Each little hurtful thing that church people do builds up. That wall of resentment I have inside was built up brick by brick, resentment by resentment. Now it’s really hard for me to trust people. I don’t know who is safe to trust. I don’t who I should let in.

I know it’s wise to not let everyone in. People have to earn your trust. I carry it to the extreme, and shut out everyone. I retreat into myself, which turns into a scary place of bitterness and cynicism. Once I’m trapped inside, I don’t know how to get out.

I know it’s unreasonable and impossible to have church without the people. It’s part of the package. The church is the people. As much as I don’t want to deal with the shiny happy Christian or the overbearing Christian or the Christian that I just don’t get, it’s all part of it. It’s part of this messy journey called faith.

I have heard it said that hurt people hurt people. I so often forget that every Christian that crosses my path is broken in some way. They’ve been broken hearted, abused, neglected, beat down, and hurt. We don’t always figure out healthy ways to process all that gunk and sometimes (unintentionally), we take that out on those around us. I’ve been guilty of it too.

Grace is such a needed trait in all of us. We need the grace to forgive those around us. We (I) can’t expect to never get hurt if we (I) want to fully engulf ourselves in this community. I struggle with showing grace to those around me sometimes because I focus so much on the injustice done to me.

It’s time to let that go. I’m still not entirely sure how, but as always, I’m learning as I go.

I’m taking a blogging break for the month of December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared in February of 2012.

 

I am insecure. From the time I was little, I have been shy, introverted, and worried that I am just not good enough. It’s a problem I’ve recently been able to embrace head on and slowly tackle to the ground, escaping it’s tight clenches. On good days, I shake it off and emerge a seemingly well adjusted adult.

But on my bad days, it rears it’s ugly head and I am once again that insecure, gangly teenager with braces and bad acne. On really bad days it’s hard to know how to beat it and rise to the surface of contentedness again.

Because I am insecure, I like attention and affirmation. I like to know that what I have to say is worthwhile. I leave comments on blogs just to see if people will think it’s smart, funny or thought provoking. Some of my facebook statuses are simply for attention; to see how many comments or “likes” I get.

I just had the awkward realization recently that I use worship for attention sometimes. It’s like I need to make sure that God is paying attention to me; that He knows I’m still here and He hasn’t forgotten me. Sometimes I feel like a little kid who is tugging at dad’s coattail to show off the neat trick I just learned.

I know that God wants to fill me up and meet my every need. That includes my need for love, affirmation, and attention. He is eagerly waiting for me to let Him fill me. This is part of faith.

But this is not what worship is. Worship is about Him and paying attention to Him. It’s not about the attention I feel I need. It’s about the adoration He is so worthy of. Forget about the warm fuzzies and instead focus on the Holy One who has done so much for me already.

Perhaps if I could just pull myself out of my simplistic struggles and just give Him the attention He deserves, I might find that my cup is filled too. And the overflow helps flood away the insecurity.

I’m breaking my blogging fast to write a quick post and let you know about a guest post I have at Godly Writer: Coping as a writer when life happens. Check out the post here.

If you’re here from Godly Writers, thanks for visiting! Welcome!

I’m taking a blogging break in the month of December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared in November of 2011.

 

Worship is not about the pursuit of the warm fuzzy.

Years ago in church, while I sang along with the music, there was a sweet sensation that would overtake my body. It was like that feeling when you’re first falling in love with someone. I felt all warm and tingly inside and simply overtaken with emotion. Warm fuzzies. Ahhhh…

God wants us to feel loved and wants us to love Him. Warm fuzzies aren’t all bad. Sometimes God gives us those feelings to encourage us. But when worship becomes all about the pursuit of the warm fuzzy, it becomes a problem.

All was well and good in my worship world as long as my warm fuzzies weren’t interrupted. Then suddenly, they were gone, and I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what to do.

I’ve known all along that worship isn’t about good feelings for me. It’s giving back to God what He has given to me. It’s honoring Him and obeying Him. It’s thanking Him for all the good things in my life, even when I don’t feel there is much good.

Even though I knew this in my head, my heart was still way confused when the happy feelings went away. Without the warm fuzzies, it’s like worship isn’t worship.

To be totally honest, I think it’s God who took the warm fuzzies away. And I think He did it on purpose. Why?

To challenge me.

To push me out of my comfort zone.

To remind me what true worship is.

So I suppose it’s time to redefine my worship. If it’s not about the warm fuzzies, what is it really about? What should I be focused on if it’s not a big bear hug from God?

Here’s a few ideas to get me started:

• God’s goodness. Although sometimes it feels “overdone,” it’s so true, and so important.
• God’s mercy. I am a spoiled little brat. I don’t know why He puts up with me.
• God’s grace. Grace is a really beautiful thing.

Again, these are all things I know, but don’t… know. Trying to figure out how to focus on them is still a challenge.

I’m taking a blogging break in the month of December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This one originally appeared in January of 2012.

 

I have a confession to make.

When I lead worship, it feels like I’m putting on a show, like I have to impress the people in the congregation. Because if I don’t, they’ll probably let me know. I get way nervous, worried that my pitch isn’t just right or that I’ll strum the wrong guitar chord. I worry that people are judging me for my musical talents, or because I don’t look worshipful enough. Maybe I’m not saying the right thing at the right time.

When I’m on stage, worship simply feels like a show.

I have another confession to make.

When I’m in the audience, when I’m supposed to be worshiping, it feels like a show. I judge the leader by all their musical mistakes, or sometimes lack thereof. If they’re too good, I think they’re just showing off. If there’s a typo in the powerpoint, I’m gone. If the worship leader says too much I get distracted. If he’s too confident, it seems like he’s just using his talents and not relying on God.

When I’m in the audience, worship simply feels like a show.

When did congregational worship become such a production? I’m all for rock music and giving the worship set all you’ve got, but sometimes I think that’s all I’m doing. Giving it all I’ve got without a second thought about God.

When I’m overwhelmed by electric guitar riffs and choking fog, I want the floor to swallow me up. I want to be anywhere but in that worship space. I start fighting back the tears of frustration because I’m not feeling it. I look at the people in the front row with their hands held high, blocking the power point for everyone behind them. They obviously “get” it. They’re not comparing this to a rock concert.

And then I glance at some of the people around me. Some are barely mumbling along to the words. Some have hands stuffed in their pockets. Some are gazing down at the floor. Some have their arms crossed in front of them and look very unimpressed. I’m obviously not alone.

When I’m on stage leading, sometimes I can’t see past the excited people in the front row. I am thankful for those that keep the energy up and are visibly into the music. But sometimes my gaze falls beyond them, to the people in the back, who look like I must look when I’m out there. And my heart goes out to them.

And I feel bad that I’m only putting on a show for them.

I’m taking a blog break in December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This was the first post on Rebooting Worship, originally posted in October of 2011. 

Walking into the dimly lit sanctuary, I find myself coughing from the fog that is descending upon the space. Colored lights are set dramatically at different angles on stage. I hear someone comment behind me, “Is this worship or a Pink Floyd concert?” They laugh at their joke, but I am uneasily asking myself the same thing.

Worship begins. Low mellow music fills the air for a few measures while the stage lights slowly bring the band into view. Electric guitar riffs blare through the speaker directly over my head and catchy drumbeats cause everyone to rise to their feet. The sound of hands clapping fills my ears. The worship leader takes center stage and shouts, “WE WORSHIP YOU JESUS!” The congregation roars in approval.

I stand alone in the crowd, feeling like I’m being swallowed. Tears prick my eyes, but these are not the tears of gratefulness that I used to offer in worship. These are tears of frustration. I feel no worshipfulness. I feel empty.

“God,” I whisper to myself, “Where are You?”

I know He’s probably here somewhere, but I can’t seem to find Him. I can’t connect in worship anymore. As soon as the music starts, the wall goes up. I try to connect, but most feeble attempts are just that and nothing more. The words mean nothing and become a jumble on the PowerPoint screen. The band soon becomes nothing more than loud noise. It all starts to seem so showy.

So instead of worshipping, I find myself becoming cynical and critical. I stop singing. I judge every typo on the screen (Your all I want? Really? Who is proofing these things?) or missed note on stage. I walk away wondering what the point of it all was.

It wasn’t always like this. I used to thrive on worship. I am a vocalist, and used to be one of those peppy singers at the front of the stage. If I wasn’t on stage, I was in the front row with hands raised high to the heavens.

So where did this disconnect begin happening? Why has it happened? Is there something to this, a lesson to be learned? Do I have a message to share with the church or simply gunk to work through in my own life? This is why I will write; to discover all that is going on under the surface. I will sort out the good and hopefully sift away the bad.  I will learn as I go and maybe share something of value.

Hopefully I will be able to look at worship in a whole new light and emerge on the other side of this vast valley.