The Empty Hands of Faith...
02/16/09 10:45
Sunday, Feb 15, 2009...
So I'm trying to prepare a worship service at my church. It's my job. I get payed to do this. I clock in on Sundays and various other days for meetings and services and rehearsals and I get the job done. Right?
Well, my mother is still in the hospital 4 days after she was supposed to be released. I've canceled rehearsals so I can catch my breath and pay one more visit to the hospital. I've skipped staff meetings. I've contacted the band members by e-mail and sent them digital versions of the music so they can practice at home.
I've already had one emotional meltdown earlier in the week, and I can feel another one brewing. I'm running just to stand still. I arrive at the church Sunday morning late. We get soundcheck going, but my stage monitor (a speaker that allows me to hear myself and the rest of the band) has an electronic short so the sound is cutting in and out. My kicking it doesn't seem to fix the problem for some odd reason. My good friend is sitting in on bass since our regular bassist has injured his hand, and hasn't had a chance to learn the music, so he's finding his way (stumbling) through the charts and I'm starting to wig out. "I'm going to look like an idiot" is the non-verbal (and arrogant) phrase cycling through my tired brain.
Time's up. The chairs are filling. I really haven't touched a piano (other than to demonstrate small things to my students) for two weeks. I haven't even prayed. I am totally and completely on empty. There's nothing for me to give.
God, it's up to you. I got nothing. Can you make this work? I sure hope so cuz I give up.
Looking back, the service was a bit of a blur that morning. Our bassist nailed his parts in the service, as did the rest of the band. The songs flowed well. The sermon nailed me to the wall and almost brought me to tears. (Richard spoke of our worth and our righteousness coming from God and not from ourselves.)
We closed the service with two songs: Before the Throne of God Above (by Vikki Cook) and Worthy is the Lamb (by Darlene Zschech). Something broke through. I wasn't trying to perform anymore. I was just playing and giving what little I had to God instead of the people in the seats. I didn't care if I sucked anymore. I finally got out of the way...
And there in front of me was a little girl. Probably not much more than a year old. And she was dancing. Spinning and bouncing. And her eyes locked with mine and she wouldn't look away. It was like she was calling me to dance with her. She got blurry as my eyes filled with tears. It was all I could do to keep singing. And she just kept dancing.
Oh to dance like that before my God. Unaware of myself. Unaware of performing for others' approval. To approach the Throne with the empty hands of faith. With hands no longer trying to carry the burden I was never asked to carry. With feet that dance with the gratitude of the adopted child.
May my hands ever be empty before the Throne...
Soli Deo Gloria
n
[Link to Richard's Message from Sunday...]
So I'm trying to prepare a worship service at my church. It's my job. I get payed to do this. I clock in on Sundays and various other days for meetings and services and rehearsals and I get the job done. Right?
Well, my mother is still in the hospital 4 days after she was supposed to be released. I've canceled rehearsals so I can catch my breath and pay one more visit to the hospital. I've skipped staff meetings. I've contacted the band members by e-mail and sent them digital versions of the music so they can practice at home.
I've already had one emotional meltdown earlier in the week, and I can feel another one brewing. I'm running just to stand still. I arrive at the church Sunday morning late. We get soundcheck going, but my stage monitor (a speaker that allows me to hear myself and the rest of the band) has an electronic short so the sound is cutting in and out. My kicking it doesn't seem to fix the problem for some odd reason. My good friend is sitting in on bass since our regular bassist has injured his hand, and hasn't had a chance to learn the music, so he's finding his way (stumbling) through the charts and I'm starting to wig out. "I'm going to look like an idiot" is the non-verbal (and arrogant) phrase cycling through my tired brain.
Time's up. The chairs are filling. I really haven't touched a piano (other than to demonstrate small things to my students) for two weeks. I haven't even prayed. I am totally and completely on empty. There's nothing for me to give.
God, it's up to you. I got nothing. Can you make this work? I sure hope so cuz I give up.
Looking back, the service was a bit of a blur that morning. Our bassist nailed his parts in the service, as did the rest of the band. The songs flowed well. The sermon nailed me to the wall and almost brought me to tears. (Richard spoke of our worth and our righteousness coming from God and not from ourselves.)
We closed the service with two songs: Before the Throne of God Above (by Vikki Cook) and Worthy is the Lamb (by Darlene Zschech). Something broke through. I wasn't trying to perform anymore. I was just playing and giving what little I had to God instead of the people in the seats. I didn't care if I sucked anymore. I finally got out of the way...
And there in front of me was a little girl. Probably not much more than a year old. And she was dancing. Spinning and bouncing. And her eyes locked with mine and she wouldn't look away. It was like she was calling me to dance with her. She got blurry as my eyes filled with tears. It was all I could do to keep singing. And she just kept dancing.
Oh to dance like that before my God. Unaware of myself. Unaware of performing for others' approval. To approach the Throne with the empty hands of faith. With hands no longer trying to carry the burden I was never asked to carry. With feet that dance with the gratitude of the adopted child.
May my hands ever be empty before the Throne...
Soli Deo Gloria
n
[Link to Richard's Message from Sunday...]