worshipin’ part 2

when worship is easy, pure, and what it needs to be

Nature is the BOMB. Absolute bomb.com. Green is the bees knees. So are bumble bees. Trees are out of this world. And while I have many more potentially goofy, yet passionate, opinions about the current status of all that good ole green jazz, I’ll press pause on em to get all spiritual and stuff.

“In the beginning, things were dark, and that was lame, so God spoke. Right after God spoke, things went BOOM at the sound of God’s voice and Life woke up, yawned, and there were a lot of flowers, breathtaking Creation, all eager to worship, praise, and dance in the name of the King forever.” – Genesis 1:1-3 (author’s paraphrase).

I saw a ghost on the stairs
And sheets on the tables and chairs
The silverware swam with the sharks in the sink
Even so, I don’t know, what to think

I’ve been longing for
Daisies to push through the floor
And I wish plant life would grow all around me
So I won’t feel dead anymore
So I won’t feel dead anymore

I saw a bear in the den
Reading my textbooks again
Bats flowed like traffic as they poured from the attic
Heaven knows, I could really use a friend

I’d rather waltz than just walk through the forest
The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time
Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus
If I were to pluck on your heartstrings would you strum on mine?

I’ve been longing for
Daisies to push through the floor
I’ve never really felt like this before
And I wish plant life would grow all around me
So I won’t feel dead anymore
So I won’t feel dead anymore

Your spirit is sweet, so pull off your sheet
And give me a ghost of a smile
Show me your teeth, ’cause you’re a teddy beneath
So just grin and bear it a while
Just grin and bear it a while

I’d rather waltz than just walk through the forest
The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time
Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus
If I were to pluck on your heartstrings would you strum on mine?

The brook babbles on about nothing at all
A new leaf turns over, unwilling to fall!

Tonight I’m busting out
Of this old haunted house
‘Cause I’m sick of waiting for
All those spider webs to grow all around me
‘Cause I don’t feel dead anymore
And I’m not afraid anymore

I’d rather waltz than just walk through the forest
The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time
Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus
If I were to pluck on your heartstrings would you strum on mine?
If I were to pluck on your heartstrings would you strum on mine?

I want to dance in heaven forever, and the song for this post elicits happy, dancing emotions in me – and I can’t even really dance. It talks about life, contains goofy imagery, and a beautiful redemptive arc; so it’s pretty much perfect. And I remember a long time ago, standing on the concrete balcony of an old friend’s apartment complex, blasting Plant Life by Owl City and twirling barefoot while imagining that I was the most graceful I’d ever been, two steps from the stars twinkling above and heart leaking from how full I felt. In reality, I stumbled a lot, fell over a lot, and got really dizzy. My friends ignored me, and if anyone saw me from below the three stories, they probably assumed I was utterly wasted.

In a way, I think I was a little drunk. Drunk on the moonlight. Drunk on the cold concrete beneath my callused toes. Drunk on the Spirit filling me, unaware of walking with Him yet, but feeling Him all the same.

Worship is, in a word, intimate. It’s when I hear God a lot of the time. It’s when His Truth overwhelms my anxiety. It’s all the cliche things that really aren’t cliche at all when you’re drowning in the moment.

This song represents when worship is beautifully easy for me. That isn’t a lot of the time, honestly (I’ll get to that in the next post ;)). But when it is, it’s indescribable. A lot of people have spoken into my life on worship, but one thing has always stuck with me, and I want to share it with you. A treasured, loved mentor of mine always closes her eyes as tight as she can, and focuses on the idea of God directly in front of her. She leads worship, and you know she isn’t aware in the slightest of the congregation in front of her.

I don’t strive to be her, but I strive to reach that moment.  The moment in every worship song, be it a praise team, Spotify, or your own voice, when everything else just doesn’t matter. I know that isn’t insanely revelational, but it was for me.

So I close my eyes, imagine His face, His Spirit. It’s just there, a breath from mine, and He’s just smiling because my simple, childish worship is more than enough for my Abba. It overjoys Him, and that Joy brings me life, till I feel like I’m growing from the ground, green, twisting beauty somehow competing with the monolithic majesties He created just before He decided to craft little us.

I’d rather waltz than just walk through the forest
The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time
Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus
If I were to pluck on your heartstrings would you strum on mine?



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