Born To Worship

All my life I have felt called to something bigger then myself. Because of that; I have felt lost for much of my almost 50 years, always searching for that tiny shred of significance, that one meaningful thing I was supposed to do. Many of the things I felt called to like home schooling, jobs and volunteer work have done more to impact my own personal growth than anybody else's. It seems as though through them, all I have accomplished is finding more things within myself that need work. I need to be kinder, gentler and more humble. Speak less, listen more and look people in the eye. Be more generous with what I have whether time or possessions, buy less of what I don't need and take better care of what God has already blessed me with. In my supposedly teaching someone else, there is always a lesson for me. Always an area of personality or temperament that needs shaping, always 4 fingers pointing back at me if I direct one to someone else. To say that God isn't finished with me yet is the understatement of a thousand lifetimes and living with someone as nearly perfect as my husband doesn't help much either. He is a constant mirror reflecting back all my harsh words and impertinence with his words of mercy and grace. Always mercy. Brian is the great giver of grace and mercy. He is the one that taught me what unconditional love really means. Throughout our marriage he has repeated one phrase to me endlessly; "Mercy, Jama. Mercy." It's really hard to not feel lacking in the presence of all that humble grace and if not for his undying devotion to showing me how much he loves me every day- I would have probably melted into a big soggy puddle by now. Actually, the opposite has happened. I have grown under the protective covering of my husband into someone that most days- I almost like. I still need lots of the kind of work that seems to be never ending; but the best thing about Brian's love is that it has also been a model of how my heavenly Father loves me. And because of that I realize that no matter how much work I still need to do- God's mercy and grace is also a never ending presence in my life. As husbands go, the standard for husbands to love their wives as Christ loves the church wasn't lost on Brian and he has it down pat. There is only one other place I get that "love you like no other" love and that is my grand girls-Lucy, Sage and Leah.

Leah spent the night with us last night and to be honest we mostly just watched her play all night. I doubt Brian or I either one could tell you much of what was on T.V. until she went to bed. She is just starting to talk so we had her trying to say all kinds of words most of which came out sounding like "Doggy" because that is her favorite. I sat on the floor with her and I can't tell you how many times she just came over to me and wrapped her arms real tight around my neck and squeezed. I got lots of kisses too and Papa was SO jealous because he just got a couple J It was one of those nights I know we will file away in our memory banks because soon she will be chasing Hurley like Lucy does and hiding away to have a tea party in the playroom with him and the dollies. We take as many of these offered kisses as our cheeks and lips can hold because all too soon we will be begging for them. We are smart now because we have been down this road three times with our own kids and we know the ropes, so we sing, play peek-a-boo behind the patio door curtain a million times, clap our hands and pretend we don't know where her belly button went- until she is yawning and rubbing her eyes and it's Night Night time. Sweet. Precious. Wonderful Leah. Her dad, Jordan was the child that would say things out of the blue that knocked your socks off. Like, "I love you Mom" when you were washing the dishes. Or, "You are pretty Mommy" or "You smell so good- like cookies" (he actually said this when he was about 8 years old) or "I am going to marry you when I get big." He said that A LOT, the marriage thing… and no amount of telling him I was already married to his dad would deter him. When I was pregnant with Luke I was so sick I could barely get off the couch without tossing my salad… Jordy was not even two years old but he would lie beside me for hours and not move, even when his sister was playing all around us. In fact, if I was sick at any time during his growing up years, he was a soldier for my cause; checking on me and taking control of the house if his daddy wasn't home. I see that same sprout of compassion in his daughter. She is only 16 months old and already she has his quiet, thoughtful ways. I feel for them when she is grown because I had a beautiful, compassionate daughter too and it can be a challenge. You have to teach them how to balance that compassion with wisdom so they don't bring home a houseful of strays… which in this case means the two legged teenage boy version and not the 4 legged, peeing on the floor type. It's tricky but since he was also his sister's greatest champion, he has had some experience in that arena which will be to his advantage. Believe it or not, sometimes the peeing is the easier problem of the two because all you need is a roll of paper towels and some disinfectant. It is much harder to put your daughter's heart back together.

This morning Brian had to work so Miss Leah and I headed off to church by ourselves. This was after I had to wake Sleeping Beauty up from a dead sleep at 8 a.m. Leah is the only grandchild I have had to wake up for EVERYTHING. This, she also gets from her father.

She was so excited when worship started her eyes were huge and her eyebrows were as high as her hairclip. She clapped her hands and "sang" at the top of her lungs. I know I am partial but it was so dang cute. I am glad they didn't abruptly stop the song for some reason because whatever little diddy she was singing was LOUD. I was so tickled I could barely sing myself and just started watching her face and I am so glad I did because I might have missed what happened next.

Without any prompting and without anyone else around us doing it (not even me) she shot her right arm straight up, hand palm out. She held it there while she sang and then this joy came over her face and she looked toward the ceiling and smiled so big I couldn't see her eyes. Her face lit up in rapture. It all only took a couple minutes but all I could think of was what is she seeing- Angels dancing around? Does she sense the presence of Jesus? Is He smiling at her? Whispering her name? As I am pondering these thoughts and searching her little bewildered face, the Lord spoke these words into my heart:

The rocks will cry out.

And then, I started to cry.

I thought about my own kids raising their tiny hands in church; child-like faith so pure and natural. Lucy playing her tambourine in service, the prayer she prayed at bedtime the other night during her sleep over: "Lord Jesus, I. Love. You. Amen." So simple and complete Sage as an infant, watching her mommy and daddy on the platform leading worship and now at 2 years old singing songs nobody thought she knew, already so musically gifted. Already so born to worship. On the drive home I was thinking about writing this blog and also thinking that I really need to write about the next chapter of Made to Crave like I am supposed to and not get side-tracked writing about my cute grandbabies but then it really hit me, one of those A-ha moments in life… this IS about Made to Crave. We are BORN to worship Him. BORN to crave Him. Nobody had to tell Leah to raise her hand and worship, it is IN her. It is in all of us, it's exposure to the world that takes it away. There is an old teaching about sin that you don't have to teach kids how to sin because we are born with it in us- the example being we don't have to teach kids how to lie, they just know how. I used to think that was so unfair until I married my husband and had someone choose to love me. Choose to be faithful to me. Choose ME. Then I understood how God wants it to be with us. He wants us to CHOOSE to do what is right once we are old enough to understand what right is. Choose to love Him. Choose HIM. It's so much nicer to be that one that is chosen. I see that example in grandparenting. My own kids kind of had to love me, sorry kids but it's true. You see it all the time in the world. Parents can do just about everything and never lose the love of their child- even to the point of death. But with the grandkids, well- it is somewhat more complicated. I am not their only grandma. I am Gigi, but there are also Nanas and Mimis. I do what I think is right by the girls but I am never going to be the "give them everything they want" Grandma, it just isn't me. Still, they keep on loving me consistently. Running into my arms and saying those delicious things that make my heart swell solely with the thought of them.

Just the other night I had pulled out our couch bed, layered it with fluffy blankets and pillows, and put in a movie for a freshly bathed Lucy, because this is something she loves to do. She snuggled up to me to eat some popcorn and Raisinettes and said, "I was hoping today would be this kind of day." So natural and so right from her heart. At that moment- she made me feel that special kind of chosen love.

 

In Luke 19, Jesus was making his entry into Jerusalem on the back of a young donkey. The people were ecstatic because he was coming into the city and they knew what wonderful things he had done and had heard him teach. They had no idea that in just a few short days this same man would hang on a cross because the Pharisees continued to grow more fearful of losing their influence with the local population:

Verse 36- "As he rode along the people were spreading their cloaks on the road; (37) and now as he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of his disciples began to praise God aloud with joy for all the mighty things they had seen (38) They proclaimed: Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest! (39) Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." (Note: they were ticked off because they were not only giving him the kingly honor but also because they were worshipping him and they felt that was blasphemy)

BUT…. Get this….

(40) He said in reply, "I tell you if they keep silent the STONES WILL CRY OUT."

Remember what the Lord whispered to my heart while Leah was worshipping? The rocks will cry out.

You see, you don't have to teach a child to worship because it is born IN them. We were made to worship Him. He was made to BE worshipped. So much so that his very presence DEMANDS worship. He didn't say that he would tell the rocks to cry out- he just said they WOULD. Fact. Done. If we refuse to give him the worship he deserves, the rocks will cry out. The 16 month olds will throw their hands in the air and raise jubilant faces to the sky. Why because someone told them to? No, because it is natural to them. They haven't been in the world long enough to be ruined by it. To have someone put doubt in their heads about the existence of God. Someone to say, maybe Jesus was just a good person and not the Savior. Maybe he didn't raise from the dead and the disciples did just hide his body. Because you know that is where the rubber meets the road, don't you? History proves Jesus existed, that isn't where the question is. The question is was he who he said he was. God in flesh, sacrificed for the forgiveness of our sins. I heard a priest speaking one day about how all the apostles were martyred, dying horrible torturous deaths because they would not recant their story and belief that Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead. His main point was this: "People die all the time for the truth. The truth is easy to die for. It's why we go to war and sacrificially give our lives for the truths this country was founded on BUT how many people would die: for a lie? Would you allow yourselves to be tortured and murdered if you knew the cause you stood for was a lie? How many dips in boiling oil would it take for you to tell someone where the bones of Jesus of Nazareth were hidden? Yet, no one ever did. All the disciples allowed themselves to be martyred because they knew the truth and could not back down from it."

Wow.

Yet how many of us have let something come into our lives and cause doubt to sprout up where the truth once lived? Was it really that important that we let something draw us away from the one place where someone will always love us unconditionally? It's not about a church or people. They fail. It's about Leah's face in church today. Her urge to worship even before she really understands what it is. It's about the child like faith of a 4 year old that only knows that she loves Jesus and He loves her and that is all that really matters. I can tell you this too; at almost 50 years old, that two-way love is all that really makes sense in the world. We weren't born to figure every heartache and mistake out, we were only born to worship. The only beings created with a God-Void. The only ones Made to Crave HIM.

I don't know what Leah saw or felt today. Maybe nothing more than shiny lights and the smiling, tear streaked face of her Gigi. But I know what I felt when I looked at her. Hope. Hope that maybe, finally I DO know what it is I am called to do. Maybe it is just to help them meet Jesus in a world that will try and distract them. Help them understand that craving born within them.

And if that is it, OH, my sweet Jesus… what a privilege that will be.