So. The last few weeks have been less than awesome.
I’ve just felt…stuck. Had some not-so-fun waiting with my writing. Felt like I didn’t fit in.
Basically, I’ve been throwing myself a pity party. Praying for God to take away my pain, my wait, the unpleasantness in this life.
But then, yesterday, I sang a song with the choir at my church. It’s called “Stand Among the Millions.” Here’s a group singing it (it’s a great song, even though this version sounds like it’s sung by a 1990s boy band…still very powerful) if you’d like to listen to the words:
Anyway, the song is basically about how one day, those of us who believe in Jesus will stand before him…with all the millions of other believers. We will stand…and then we will bow. Our entire purpose will be worshipping Him.
As I sang the song yesterday — the instruments and voices of my fellow singers swelling around me — I was so overcome with a sense of awe.
And it struck me.
Worshipping shouldn’t just be my entire purpose when I’m gone from this life.
It should be my entire purpose while I’m here too.
So that pity party? I mean, yeah, it’s only human to be disappointed and sad sometimes. But I can’t let those pity-party moments take away from my worship of Him.
I can’t let myself become so entrenched in what I want for my life — and what I’m waiting to happen — that I miss those opportunities to worship Him.
And I can’t let the sum of my life be defined by what I do, what I don’t have, and those long waits.
Instead, I want the sum of my life to be defined by my worship of Him.
I want it to pervade every crevice of my life so that I’m utterly soaked in and surrounded by worship.
I want to worship in the wait. In the good. In the bad.
I want to see the beauty in every circumstance of my life — and I’m discovering that THAT comes through worship.
The more I worship Him, the more I know Him. The more I know Him, the more I recognize His presence in my life…the more that becomes enough.
The more it becomes my dream not to achieve and to fit in and to NOT have to wait. Instead, my dream is to live daily in constant worship so I’m prepared for that day when the only thing I have to do — the only thing I GET to do — is stand before Jesus, in awe of my King, and then bow with millions of others…fully satisfied, fully immersed in Him.
Amen and amen.
Your Turn: How do you turn personal pity parties around?
It's hard to admit, isn't it? Yes, I definitely allow the disappointment in circumstances to sneak into my heart and weigh down my spirit. I know exactly what you're talking about. Thankfully, God never lets me stay there. It might take me getting on my face, crying out to him with brutal honesty. Or choosing to praise even when there's no song in my heart. But once I refocus on His faithfulness, he always re-captivates my heart.
It is a choice, isn't it? Love your thoughts here, Crystal!
Love your honesty and transparency in this post today, Linz. And yes, living in constant worship has to be the BEST way to turn a personal pity party around. 🙂
One of the things I've been learning more about in the past couple years has just been emotions in general–the importance of letting myself "feel" instead of trying to ignore or avoid negative feelings. But then at the same time, remembering I am not my feelings…and I have a choice whether to let them control me or me control them. And the best way to control them is to focus on the truth–God's faithfulness, His love, His ridiculously good plan. 🙂
"But then at the same time, remembering I am not my feelings…and I have a choice whether to let them control me or me control them." Yes, yes, yes. Thank goodness for this!
Lindsay, thank you for your transparency in this post. I've been where you just described. Sometimes, it seemed like I had a one-way ticket to that place and no way to get back. But you're right, when I focused on God, rather than on me, it was easier to climb back out of that place. Worship is such a great way to get my perspective back to where it should be. This also restores joy to my spirit. Praying for you friend.
Thanks for the prayers, friend. You are so sweet!
Oh, Lindsay! I wish we lived closer, because I'd buy you a large Oreo Blizzard and I'd come to your house, sit on your couch, and talk and talk and talk. I wish I could hug you and encourage you and tell you that you fit in perfectly–even though I always encourage my children to not worry about "fitting" in, but rather, stand out for what is right and true and good. I'm so thankful that even though I can't be there, God has sent His Comforter to be with you. I come in prayer and He comes in Spirit and in Truth. You've got a Mighty King working on your behalf and soon, very soon, you'll see what great plans He has for you.