I didn’t know how to show up to the Worship Desk. I just didn’t feel right.
I could’ve blamed a thousand genuine earthly reasons. But, in the spiritual reality in which we live, I knew, I was in a battle. Physically, battling illness. Mentally, battling anxiety and distraction. Emotionally, battling sadness over a tragedy in my beloved community. And spiritually, I was battling all of the above and allowing it to get the better of me.
In my mind, I thought I had to be joyful and grateful and on fire before coming to the Worship Desk. I should show up at the Worship Desk with a heart brimming with love for the Lord. Instead, I felt stale. Exhausted. And some subliminal part of me didn’t want Jesus to see me like this. So I didn’t go to the Worship Desk. I tried to write from the comfort of my bed as my body healed. I tried to lose myself in a new fictional world full of possibility. But something was missing. Yes, I had prayed for and about this new project. But my heart wasn’t right. My passion to spend time listening at the Worship Desk had become lackluster. Strained. Even when I finally sat there, I almost didn’t know what to do with myself. I confessed these feelings to my dear friend, and she reminded me of something I’d forgotten –
God doesn’t want my “perfect”
He just wants my heart.
I had given into the lie that because I didn’t have it all together, I couldn’t go to my Father. I didn’t feel worthy of sitting in His presence. I had momentarily forgotten the reason why I take communion regularly – to remember the life, death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ – and that I am made worthy through Him.
Writing as worship just isn’t sustainable if I feel the need to be “perfect” to do it. I had become so accustomed to my evening worship routine that when it was broken, and attacks came at me in all forms, I allowed my heart to shift from a posture of worship into one of fear. Fear of not being or doing enough. Fear of being seen as less than. Fear of writing something God wasn’t calling me to. Fear of every worst case scenario. But God has not given me – or you – a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind (2 Tim 1:7)
So, if you don’t know how to approach the throne of grace right now, can I encourage you to show up anyway? With open hands and an open heart, go to the only One who can bring healing to every facet of our lives.
Let’s not allow fear to cripple our steadfast spirits.
When our spiritual lives feel gray and lifeless, may we invite Him in with His rainbow color and the gift of His Holy Spirit.
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.PSALM 51:10
Heavenly Father, please give me a steadfast spirit to come into your presence even when I’m struggling and to know that I can be still and know that You are God. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
“steadfast” – to be firm; unwavering; to endure patiently.