Hands
04 07 10 19:43 Filed in: Grief Notes | Reflections
It was the right place to be, but I almost didn’t go. Did I want to expose the fresh wounds of grief? (Not particularly.) Could I experience the words and music of worship without creating a puddle of tears? (Probably not. Thank God for Kleenex in every row; I have trouble making it through communion dry-eyed even when life is normal.) Did I want to worship? (More strongly than usual; I wanted to do what Matt was doing.) So I went to church this morning even though I didn’t have to. And I’m glad I did.
God is worthy of whatever worship I can give Him, and my fellow-worshipers help me handle the handicap of grief. It was not just handshakes and hugs before and after the service, it was hands during the service as well. Amazing grace... my heart was too full to sing aloud, and my leaking eyes were closed in prayer when I felt the hands of others on my shoulders. I’ll take your burden, you take My grace... There are times when I need to be alone; this morning was not one of them. Their hands said what my heart needed to hear.
It is of grace that God should delight in what broken worshipers can offer. This morning, this broken worshiper was blessed to be helped by the hands of others.
God is worthy of whatever worship I can give Him, and my fellow-worshipers help me handle the handicap of grief. It was not just handshakes and hugs before and after the service, it was hands during the service as well. Amazing grace... my heart was too full to sing aloud, and my leaking eyes were closed in prayer when I felt the hands of others on my shoulders. I’ll take your burden, you take My grace... There are times when I need to be alone; this morning was not one of them. Their hands said what my heart needed to hear.
It is of grace that God should delight in what broken worshipers can offer. This morning, this broken worshiper was blessed to be helped by the hands of others.
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