To sing to God. For God. With God.
What a gift!
When the music begins, it’s like my spirit doubles. It’s like I’m standing in the throne room of God.
Every ounce of love I have, I want to give Him. And the only reason I want more love is so I can give Him even more.
It fills every cell of my body.
I can’t hold still!
Worship isn’t a spectator sport.
Loving God is an active role.
Put me in, Coach!
Here I am. Send me.
But here’s something I haven’t quite figured out.
How can I walk into a building called a church, overflowing with love for God, and feel like I don’t belong?
One Easter Sunday, I visited a church.
There was some confusion about the service times, but I learned they were celebrating baptisms with music.
“Is there singing? I love to sing to the Lord!”
There was!
The room had something of a concert atmosphere. Lights, microphones, a band performing in the center of the room. Almost like stepping into a music video.
I found a little alcove with wonderful acoustics.
And I sang.
Oh, how I sang!
People were being baptized. I was excited for them. I thought about the angels rejoicing when someone comes into the kingdom.
And then, after a couple of songs, a man approached me.
He told me to tone it down.
My singing was a distraction.
We spoke in the lobby, and eventually he asked me to leave.
On Easter Sunday.
At a church celebrating people being welcomed into the kingdom of God.
And there I was, being shown the door.
There’s something almost comical about that.
And a damn shame.
Now, I’m not quiet when I sing. But I also sing harmony. Different notes, different expressions, sometimes a different musical direction.
Perhaps that was part of the distraction. I don’t know.
But isn’t that interesting?
Harmony requires difference.
We don’t create harmony by demanding that everyone sing the same note.
And yet, sometimes, that seems to be what we expect of one another.
I think about David dancing before the Lord with all his might (2 Samuel 6:14). Not everyone approved of his expression of worship.
I think about Jesus telling us to seek first the kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33).
And I wonder what happens when our expectations about how people should worship become more important than understanding why they’ve come.
Of course, worshiping together calls for consideration. My freedom to sing doesn’t mean everyone around me experiences that singing as I do.
But surely there’s room for conversation, understanding, and kindness.
I don’t know what was happening in the hearts of the people I encountered that morning.
I know what was happening in mine.
I came to sing to God.
I left still loving Him.
And that’s what I want this story to be about.
Not how passionately I worship.
Not whether I sing the right notes, stand in the right place, or behave according to someone’s expectations.
It’s about God.
The One I love with all that I have.
The One I live for.
And the freedom to love Him with everything He’s given me.
Perhaps the question isn’t whether everyone should worship alike.
Perhaps it’s whether we can learn to make room for one another.
Different voices. Different expressions.
One wonderfully human gathering.
And, just maybe, a little more harmony.
Born to love God.
Love, one everyday moment at a time. ❤️🙏🏼🌎