Raw Worship

It’s easy to worship when you’re celebrating a victory. Praise almost comes naturally when things are going well.

But after you’ve been dealt a blow or experienced a failure — it’s so much harder.

Last week, Pastor Nathan preached about worship. One of the definitions for worship was “honoring someone of greater importance.” Another was “showing submission.” He encouraged us to honor and submit to God by giving EVERYTHING to Him… even our failures. Even the things that didn’t go well. At first, that sounded a little weird to me — don’t we want to give only our very best? What did it really mean to give our failures to Him? How could that also be an act of worship?

I had no idea how quickly I’d get a chance to put that into practice. By the middle of the week, I was slammed hard by three things at once: things that were all failures in some way. They made me question my intelligence, my judgment… and even my worth. One of these things resulted in some data being lost — and that hurt not only me, but some folks I really care about — including my pastors. I felt absolutely horrible about it. I was haunted by an endless string of “what ifs,” wishing I could change things. I felt like I was in a deep pit… and wouldn’t have minded much if someone just wanted to bury me there.

When you’re agonizing over your worthlessness, worship isn’t exactly the first thing on your mind.

When I told my pastor what was happening, he could have chosen to focus on the inconvenience that this caused… but he didn’t. Instead, he used that moment when I was at a real low point to remind me that my worth in his eyes and God’s eyes doesn’t depend on my performance.

I was still in a bad spot — I still had a lot of work ahead of me — but that one statement changed the atmosphere in my little personal pit. Before that, I felt mostly guilt and shame and wanted to hide. After… I was both humbled and honored that I could still be valued even when things didn’t turn out so well.

How can you help but respond in worship to such an awesome realization?

I gave those failures to God. That doesn’t mean that I’m not still working on fixing them, but it does mean that I’m leaning on Him for help rather than hiding from Him until I can sort it all out on my own. For me right now, that’s raw worship — worship stained with tears and dirt and blood — a real “just-as-I-am” surrendering, before I even attempt to make myself presentable. An acknowledgment of His superior worth and acceptance of the nearly incredible fact that this God of infinite worthiness and power sees me exactly how I am… and still sees value in me.