I hesitate to say that I *am* a "worship leader"... because that description does not define me. Yes, it is something that I *do*, but it is not something that I *am*. What I *am* is a child of God who is in need of His mercy, and I am unconditionally loved and accepted completely apart from anything I have ever done or will ever do. More than anything during this season, I am learning what it means to be a human being as opposed to a human doing... a difficult lesson by any stretch, especially for me.
When the lever swiped across the Magna Doodle board on that day in July, the music in me fell silent. The worship leader died. And it seemed as if neither would ever return. I wanted to be as far away from my guitars as I could possibly be, and even gave some away. I wanted nothing to do with them, with music, with worship... nothing. And mixed with the trauma of all of the losses and changes was a belief that God had required of me to lay it all down. And I did.
There is big chunk of the story that I will tell another time, But basically, what I began to realize in the early weeks that followed my personal "D-Day" was that worship was not about me, nor about what I could do for Him with my guitar. It was simply about God because He is worthy.
There is a song by Hillsong off their CD "This is Our God" called, "Desert Song". One lyric says, "In all of my life, in every season, You are still God. I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship." It doesn't matter how horrible my circumstances, God is still God and He is worthy of my worship. Actually, the worship that rises up out of those most horrible, traumatic circumstances has an even sweeter fragrance to God because it is so much more difficult to do. It is so much easier to praise Him when the seas are smooth.
One of the guys who sings on the worship team at my church named Gary, hosts a worship-circle style, unscripted, spontaneous night of worship one Friday a month in his home. One was scheduled just 12 days after I arrived at my new church. I wanted to go check it out, because, by this point in my journey, all I wanted to do was be in the presence of the Lord. I was desperate for it. So I went... with nothing but a desire to be with Him.
When I arrived, Gary asked me about my email address. He asked if "guitargal" was just wishful thinking, or if I actually played guitar. I told him that I had "been known to" play guitar in the past, that I had "been known to" lead worship off and on over the past 19 years... but I also told him that I was no longer playing. I was in a season of brokenness; a season where I believed God had told me to lay it down. There was nothing in me that wanted to play, lead or anything other than sit there and soak... I had nothing to offer.
But God had other ideas. I was soon to discover that I had walked into a divine 'set up', one that I could not escape... one that could not have been from anyone or anything other than God Himself.
Gary told me that he usually had lots of musicians there on those Third Fridays, but on this particular Friday, none of them showed up. There was not a single one in the bunch. Eighteen people were there to worship the Lord - with no one who could lead them musically? Come on - you gotta be kidding me…! This was a set up.
I didn't have a guitar with me. I didn't have calluses on my fingers as I had not played in 2 months. Having only been at the church for 2 Sundays, I didn't even know the repertoire of music they were familiar with. More importantly, I didn't have the desire or the strength. I was empty. I was broken. I felt unworthy. I believed God had told me to lay the worship leader hat down, and I had no intention of picking it back up.
Before I knew it, Gary appeared with a guitar in hand, a Taylor 110 in a case. He set it down by the chair I was in and gave me his stack of chord charts to thumb through. What proceeded was a 20-minute argument with God. I told Him all the reasons why I couldn't lead, why I shouldn't lead... after all, no "human" had deemed me "restored" yet... no one had given me "permission"... I hadn't been "cleared" by anyone to do anything. And besides, "You told me to lay this down, God… what are You doing here?"
I found myself opening up the case, pulling the guitar out and into my lap. I began to tune it - all the while fighting with God in the privacy of my thoughts. Certainly this could not be OK with Him??
When the lever swiped across the Magna Doodle board on that day in July, the music in me fell silent. The worship leader died. And it seemed as if neither would ever return. I wanted to be as far away from my guitars as I could possibly be, and even gave some away. I wanted nothing to do with them, with music, with worship... nothing. And mixed with the trauma of all of the losses and changes was a belief that God had required of me to lay it all down. And I did.
There is big chunk of the story that I will tell another time, But basically, what I began to realize in the early weeks that followed my personal "D-Day" was that worship was not about me, nor about what I could do for Him with my guitar. It was simply about God because He is worthy.
There is a song by Hillsong off their CD "This is Our God" called, "Desert Song". One lyric says, "In all of my life, in every season, You are still God. I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship." It doesn't matter how horrible my circumstances, God is still God and He is worthy of my worship. Actually, the worship that rises up out of those most horrible, traumatic circumstances has an even sweeter fragrance to God because it is so much more difficult to do. It is so much easier to praise Him when the seas are smooth.
One of the guys who sings on the worship team at my church named Gary, hosts a worship-circle style, unscripted, spontaneous night of worship one Friday a month in his home. One was scheduled just 12 days after I arrived at my new church. I wanted to go check it out, because, by this point in my journey, all I wanted to do was be in the presence of the Lord. I was desperate for it. So I went... with nothing but a desire to be with Him.
When I arrived, Gary asked me about my email address. He asked if "guitargal" was just wishful thinking, or if I actually played guitar. I told him that I had "been known to" play guitar in the past, that I had "been known to" lead worship off and on over the past 19 years... but I also told him that I was no longer playing. I was in a season of brokenness; a season where I believed God had told me to lay it down. There was nothing in me that wanted to play, lead or anything other than sit there and soak... I had nothing to offer.
But God had other ideas. I was soon to discover that I had walked into a divine 'set up', one that I could not escape... one that could not have been from anyone or anything other than God Himself.
Gary told me that he usually had lots of musicians there on those Third Fridays, but on this particular Friday, none of them showed up. There was not a single one in the bunch. Eighteen people were there to worship the Lord - with no one who could lead them musically? Come on - you gotta be kidding me…! This was a set up.
I didn't have a guitar with me. I didn't have calluses on my fingers as I had not played in 2 months. Having only been at the church for 2 Sundays, I didn't even know the repertoire of music they were familiar with. More importantly, I didn't have the desire or the strength. I was empty. I was broken. I felt unworthy. I believed God had told me to lay the worship leader hat down, and I had no intention of picking it back up.
Before I knew it, Gary appeared with a guitar in hand, a Taylor 110 in a case. He set it down by the chair I was in and gave me his stack of chord charts to thumb through. What proceeded was a 20-minute argument with God. I told Him all the reasons why I couldn't lead, why I shouldn't lead... after all, no "human" had deemed me "restored" yet... no one had given me "permission"... I hadn't been "cleared" by anyone to do anything. And besides, "You told me to lay this down, God… what are You doing here?"
I found myself opening up the case, pulling the guitar out and into my lap. I began to tune it - all the while fighting with God in the privacy of my thoughts. Certainly this could not be OK with Him??
Then, with a clear, strong voice, I heard God say unmistakably, "Cathy, I don't hold grudges!" He continued, "Take that guitar and do what I created you to do." I was overwhelmed and humbled. In God's eyes, I was already restored. The moment I repented, I was restored in His sight. Even though some people in my former church saw me as disqualified and in need of a lengthy 'restoration process', God had qualified me and this was His call.
I ended up playing/leading worship for the next 2 ½ hours. It was unfamiliar to me. It was from a place I had never accessed before. It was a sacrifice of praise from the most broken places. And... my fingers were killing me!
I am forever changed by the events that unfolded in my world the summer of 2008… worship cannot come from the familiar and safe places any longer. It now comes with a sense of brokenness and humility before the Lord Who has shown me great mercy.
I ended up playing/leading worship for the next 2 ½ hours. It was unfamiliar to me. It was from a place I had never accessed before. It was a sacrifice of praise from the most broken places. And... my fingers were killing me!
I am forever changed by the events that unfolded in my world the summer of 2008… worship cannot come from the familiar and safe places any longer. It now comes with a sense of brokenness and humility before the Lord Who has shown me great mercy.
All of those who were there could sense the sacrifice in my worship that night. When the evening was drawing to a close, they asked if they could pray for me. It was a beautiful picture of the body of Christ being Jesus to a broken and hurting woman. Their prayers were amazing and so healing to me. I told them afterwards that what they had been a part of in that living room that night was far bigger than any of them could imagine. This was God’s '"stamp of approval", a reminder to me that no matter what I had done, I am holy and blameless in His sight because of the cross. He qualifies me. This was His reminder and commitment to me that He is not finished with me yet!
2 comments:
Amen! Sometimes it is really easy to condemn ourselves, but you are right..by the cross we are all Holy and Blameless, and our heads do not have to hang in shame for the deeds of our past. Thank you Jesus!!!!
The most profound statements in this blog are..."In God's eyes, I was already restored. The moment I repented, I was restored in His sight." and it doesn't matter what we've done, He sees us holy and blameless through the cross. Some really good revelation here! ;)
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