I’ve met people from every walk of life and they all have one thing in common: they’re heading somewhere. Although someone might be living in the same house, doing the same job, or entertain the same hobbies for years on end, they are still in a process of some kind. Change is not optional. We were created to evolve. And we do, whether we want to or not.
From the moment you set out to do something, meet someone, or create something, you begin a journey. You may think that you know where you’re going, but the road to any destination is rarely a straight line. Our journey hardly ever looks like we expected it to. We never anticipated the abrupt turns, the unforeseen potholes, the steep uphill, or the fog that threw us slightly off course.
Truth is, we never expected it to be so hard.
Stuff happens. Life happens. Pain happens. Unexpectedly. Uninvitedly.
Grief happens.
And it refuses to leave.
A dear friend of mine is now walking through agonizing pain as the first anniversary of her son’s death is coming up. Throughout this last year, she has done a year of “firsts”. First Thanksgiving. First Christmas. First birthday. First Mother’s Day. First summer holiday. First everything – without him. An entire year with a gaping hole in the heart of a warrior momma.
My heart breaks for her. No matter how much I want to, I can’t take her pain away.
All through the dreadful disease and devastating loss, she taught me about a God that’s good – no matter what. Even as the hospital machines went silent and the tears overflowed, she still worshipped.
It made sense at the time. Her son was pain-free and at home with Jesus. But then, the longing began, and the darkness set in. Life became excruciatingly difficult.
And the worship evolved.
It no longer sounded like sweet love songs or easygoing praise. This new cry burst its way from deep within, through layers of crushed hope and unspoken disappointment, fueling anger and quivering faith. It was a heart-made sound that touched the heart of God.
The worship of the heart
Because true worship is our hearts connecting with the heart of the Father. Speaking not only what we think he wants to hear, or what we believe we ought to say, but our very heart. Nothing less. The Father requires nothing less than our all.
My friend never held her worship hostage, even though she was left out of words and sounds. Rather than faking a less than genuine praise, she gave God what he longed for. She invited him into her grief and her many questions.
He came to stay.