THE DANCER

The music moves me.

Moves me to push my body in ways I do not normally move. I become one with the notes that dance across the page. Explosive emotion erupts like a volcano and I dance…

I move. I flow with flawless perfection. Only me and Lord see. No one else. In His eyes, there is nothing more beautiful. There is nothing more pure. I express my heart in a way that only He has seen. Not even my husband has seen me dance this way.

The music twists and turns with passion and my soul follows. My arms cut through the air with fluid rhythm and I am floating.

Tears stream from my eyes and I know my Savior is dancing with me. He writes the music on my heart. And I, I dance.

The music moves me.

It transfigures my DNA. It expends me. Sweat drips from my brow and muscles ache with delight. I move. I stir with aggravated intention. Pushing this broken body to the edge. Open, there is no limit to my expression.

The music drives the fervor inside of me. My legs twirl like a ballerina, but I reflect nothing of the sort. Yet I feel like I am on Broadway, dancing to perfection.

I am moved.

 Moved to go the distance; to stay the course. It breaks my sorrow, it tackles my pain. The movement gives way to freedom; and I cannot deny its call. Like water cleansing he soul, it washes over me and saturates my being.

Dancing…

I move to the music and it moves me.

 

Sunday Morning dread...

I wish Sunday mornings in church buildings across America consisted of a family style breakfast, where everyone sits around tables and eats and drinks and talks about their week. Where many different people from many walks of life got up and shared what The Lord revealed to them that week in Spirit or in the Word. 

Where the spiritually mature watched over to be sure truth was spoken, but didn't find their identity in a title or position. 

Where people prayed for one another while they are eating and drinking and the results of those prayers were healing; emotionally, spiritually and physically. 

Where worshiping in song happened after Acts 2:42-43 took place, and it was not limited to the program or time, but went as long or short as the spirit led. Where people who don't worship in song could stay and pray or fellowship or minister to or be ministered to by the people they are breaking bread with! (Which is actually communion, not the wafer grape juice nock off version)

I wish churches in America looked like what the Bible says they should look like and not how man says it should look like. I wish Bible colleges stopped giving people papers that says they are pastors, when in fact only God determines who is equip to lead. I wish churches put less stake on paper and more on discernment of character. 

I wish pastors stopped teaching tithing and instead expected giving as a by product of loving Jesus. Where people gave as much or as little as they felt lead and they did not have to measure their gift by a number or a percentage. 

I wish churches in America were filled with gang bangers, prostitutes, homeless, single moms, Adulterers, porn addicts, drug addicts, alcoholic, abusive and abused people, so that they could receive the saving grace and love of a Savior, who already died innocently on a cross for them to experience freedom from the bondage they are in; so they could be loved by those who already know the love of Jesus. So they would feel like the most beautiful, valued people on earth! 

I wish the American church embraced other denominations besides their own, collaborated with with other churches, ministries and individuals who have the common goal of being people to the saving grace of Jesus Christ; instead of competing with one another. 

I wish I could see Jesus lived out in the churches as he promised us: "Greater things will you do in my name." GREATER THINGS!!! Meaning greater than what He did in the Bible? Do you see "greater things" happening at your church? 

Then....

I wouldn't wake up on Sunday morning dreading going to a building that says it is Christian, but is really just another place to promote self and agendas. 

I wouldn't dread worshipping in song and listening to singers who have no concept of the heart of worship! I wouldn't be irritated by a man or woman who  decides that 3 songs is enough.

I wouldn't have to listen to one man over and over again, giving me their perspective of God. 

Do people really think that the nature of God can be summed up by one person! If so, we serve a small limited God! No one person can clearly communicate God, which is why it is mandatory that multiple people share their perspective of how God loves them, so we, as a community can have a more well rounded view of the Creator of this Universe! 

I was in church last week and listened to the 20 year veteran pastor talk about vanity. I would rather hear the guy who was sitting in front of me tattooed up with gang symbols! I would love to hear his take on vanity! He was weeping during worship, because you could see it was deep for him! It was not an obligation or duty! Jesus Christ was his life!

Sigh...

So off I go to some building, where I will reach deep to grab whatever crumb of the Word I am given today, that generally lacks passion or conviction. I will worship in song, with everything in me and be told later by my kids that people were staring at me. My husband will leave during the sermon and go outside to pray for the pastor... My kids will look at me with their "really" mom faces, because we have taught them the truth about what the Bible says about church and they are wondering why we are there.

And we will do our best to love, serve and worship in a broken place called -the American church!

Worship

What does that mean exactly? I grew up going to church and first we had worship and then the announcements and then the sermon. Worship, to me, was songs you sang at church. I wanted to be a worship leader one day, because I loved to sing the songs that were sung in church and it was the closest I felt to God.

When I was 18 years old, I decided that I was no longer going to go to church and research other religions to be sure this religion I was raised with was the truth. I was in love with a young man who was Mormon and I wanted to know what the difference was between his religion and mine. That led to a year long journey of self discovery and intellectual awareness of other religions. I read for hours and prayed to this all knowing, all powerful being, asking for his/her direction to the truth. My young and wild heart ached to know if there was, in fact, a reason for my worship; if this God was even worthy of being worshipped. I was intelligent enough to know that we did not evolve from some cosmic chaos, but that there was an infinite creator who had brought this world into existence. I just did not know which avenue of faith was the truth about this creator.

By the time I was nineteen, I had studied many religions, but realized that the truth was the God of the Bible. That Jesus was, in fact, the Savior of this world and this was a religion of love and truth, not condemnation and hate. (Although, some Christians preach that...even though it is not truth). I had to wrap my mind around what worshipping this God meant. What did it look like. How was I supposed to do it? 

It wasn't until recently that I have come to a pure and truthful understanding of what true worship is...

We were recently invited to attend a prophetic worship conference. My entire family went to experience whatever it was that God would have for us. Within 5 minutes it was easy to discern that this was an event that was meant to evoke emotion in the human psyche that fed the soul and tricked the mind into believing that there was some secret way to “tap” into the heavenlies to experience God. The worship leader was instruction people what to do and how to “let go” to experience the fullness of God. I looked around the room and everyone was swaying and moving their arms around to “experience” God in a way that could only happen in this way.

I looked over at my kids. My daughter, who can easily discern the atmosphere, was angry, she said, “This is boring mama.” My boys were chuckling at the theatrics of it all. My oldest, who is black and white with no gray said, “I DO NOT WORSHIP LIKE THIS!” and with conviction stood against the wall with his arms crossed. My middle son, who is sensitive to the spirit of God, was quiet and observed the crowd, carefully taking it in, trying to determine the heart of it. My husband in persistent prayer, waiting to see if something was going to change. I was pissed, like my son, at the abuse of leadership, in their manufactured “experience” of worship.

We left. The kids were so thankful. We talked for almost an hour about what true worship is. We talked in depth about different expressions of worship, different genres of worship, and different perspectives of worship. We talked about how people worshiped God in the Bible. What “sacrifice of praise” means.

Worship is expressed in ways that cannot be controlled or taught or manufactured. It is expressed in the way we live. In how we see the world, in how we respond to adversity. It is expressed in the pain and the joy, the love and hate. It is demonstrated in ways that we sometimes miss.

We worship God when we are walking and notice something beautiful in nature, and stop to delight in the wonder of it. We worship God when we are thankful for our children and cherish their little intricacies. We worship God when we anger overtakes us at the injustice of this world. We worship God with the tears that fall down our faces when we lose someone we love. We worship God in the sports we play, when we give our all and depend on the gifts he gave us. We worship God in the jobs we go to; when we do things we do not want to do and suffer at the hand of our authorities. We even worship God in the raising our fists to him with explicit words flying towards the heavens in rage, because there is an intimacy there that the Lord desires to have with us. In all of our range of emotions and experiences, the fact that we include this Creator, this God, and our Jesus into our everyday lives is a form of worship that is often overlooked.

Yes, singing about the goodness of God is a form of worship. It is a way to express our gratitude and love in song with music. But it is only one form of expression. I am learning how to soak in His goodness, delight in his acceptance of my sinful being; appreciate the blessings, praise Him in the trial; fall in His presence, surrender into his arms. This is worship.

The worship we experience in church is just a type of worship. It is like writing a love letter to the one you love; or a love song. It is a memoir, if you will, a record of the great and marvelous things that our Lord has done. It is a poetic utterance of gratitude and love for this Creator, who gave us life.