Updated: Sep 2, 2020
Two days ago I was sitting drinking coffee with my lovely wife, discussing the concept of “Worship” when we read it in the pages of the book we are reading together? To be honest, the concept, as well as the practice, seemed to be something I have struggled with perhaps the majority of my adult life, or at least from the time I can say that I have been actively engaged in the arena of at least trying to “follow God.”
What exactly is worship? And while I had the privilege in my own past to play a musical instrument, and be a part of a “worship service” band, I can say that the actual feeling of worship as well as the desire to enter into it, seemed to escape me? Plus reading passages in the Bible where statements are made of people or angels worshiping God for extended periods of time, even weeks or years, not only baffled me but is some cases even scared me, as I contemplated the translations of my own guilt-laden boredom with the mere twenty or thirty minutes I had in church, extending to periods over months if not more?
I went to bed or perhaps relaxed, and as I began to doze off an image came into my head from my own young family life experience, and I felt God may have been answering my own questions, even one I hardly realized I asked? I have an overwhelming feeling to put that image onto the paper after discussing it with Anna this morning.
I was transported and see before me, my own small child Grace as a baby, sitting on the floor in front of me. What was amazing was the image I could see was one where I am looking at the scene from directly behind her and I can at the same time also see myself sitting on the couch off to her right watching her play?
I say I can see myself because I am sort of watching her, and watching myself watch her even as the scene unfolds before me. There is a look on my own face, as I watch my sweet child just sit there playing before me of pure happiness. And while I probably couldn’t do it justice, let’s just say I don’t think I could ever remember myself being that happy as I witness myself at this moment, the look was unmistakable. Perhaps the only word that I could possibly come up with, that could even remotely describe the look on my own face I was witnessing; is utter bliss.
My little daughter cannot be even a year old yet, because she doesn’t seem to be old enough to stand up on her own, but she is sitting unsupported. She is from the vantage point I am observing, now right directly behind her, clearly sitting looking or playing with something in her hands.
My own eye must have the supernatural ability to simultaneously look from behind her and at the same time, not only see what she is examining in her precious hands but also the look on her face as she examines it? She is just sitting there looking at a simple small rectangular toy, perhaps a small woodblock o