There were times when I wondered why I was there. In a service of worship. It was long, boring, disconnected from the realities of life, from me. Words would be grand and old. Songs that sounded empty. Sermons and prayers that seemed to go on forever. But always my story needed to be brought to the sacred space where others brought their story. Somehow God seemed to not be forgotten. |
Others times I would sit with my doubts and questions. Was God real? Did God exist? And still between the shifts of nursing, I would go.
There were times when my heart simply hurt, my soul was tired. I would carry a deep sadness. I did not want to be in a place where there were people, many of whom were "happy". It was not a place I could easily bring the sadness. Yet I would still go.
In the days when my Dad found life's end coming, when life was at its hardest for him, he would still go.
Going wasn't about who he was, it was about who God is in these hard hard moments of life. I often wonder why I go, when being in a worship service with others, is dry, disconnecting and empty . . . . and it isn't because of who I am, or what "should" be taking place there, but it is because of who God is for me in those hard hard moments of life.
As someone who leads worship and invites others to think about how they lead worship, my challenge and call always is - who is God for us, how do we create space, where the sacred dance of our souls can take place . . . . where those hard hard stories have room, and where God's transformative love can be called out in the life of community. . . . where joy and celebration from these hard hard stories can be brought to our attention. . . .That is also why I bother . . . . .