Worship

Last night I spent two and a half hours worshiping. I wished it would never end. I wished I could fully explain why that space was the most lushious, peacefully, enlivening place to be. Latley I have no idea how playing music and singing passes for worshiping God. All I do know is that God seems to enjoy it and keeps coming to be with us when we start playing and singing.

The whole experience is a strange exercise. Half the time I'm singing about things I don't really know about and then when I do I feel that the words are never quite saying it. Words like holy, or worthy, or beautiful. What is holy, or worthy or beautiful about God?

What I experienced last night, but could not explain is that God was with us. I felt seen and heard. I was filled with the desire that his goodness would be known. I did not want to move from that space.

This whole experience reminds me of the Mary Oliver poem up there under the name of this blog. "I will sing for the veil." It's all hidden, there is enough to guess at what is there, there is enough to show us that it may, it might, it could lift and the singing is the work, that is the call. Singing for hope of what is there, for more of what is there waiting to be revealed. Now we sing for the one we do not see, but when he comes I believe that we will know that we truly saw him all along and he will be instantly recognizable to the ones who foolishly tried to see his face in the dark.