A Thousand Ways to Worship

Being in Malaysia, all I do is learn.  I learn from Pastor Yesu, from my team, from the smiles of strangers, from the streets, and the dirt, from the long nights of ministry and the sometimes painful stretches of feedback.  I learn at the grocery store, I learn at the house, I’ve learned in hospitals and homes and churches and in the van.  I’ve learned by the light of the morning sun and flickering shadows of my own selfish intentions.  I’ve learned by the voice of the Lord.  I’ve learned from the laughter of small children. 

 
I find myself in two minds.  On one hand, the work the Lord is doing is slow and subtle, steadily moving me forwards but on His own time.  It is hard for me to look down the road and imagine myself being an entirely different person, shaped by 11 months of the Lord’s erosive Spirit.  But on the other hand, I already don’t even recognize the man I came here as.
 
The Lord’s been teaching me constantly, almost more than I can manage.  But as I learn to trust Him more, and as I train my ear to better hear Him, the more I’m able, and the more I want, to worship Him with every fiber of my being.  Here’s how I’ve managed so far.
 
 

 

I worship the Lord in Indian dance. 
I worship Him in bhangra moves
and Kuthu style,
in suggestive hip thrusts
and high knees,
to dubstep,
the new T-Swift song,
Christian worship,
slow reflective songs,
local favorites. 
 
I worship the Lord in singing. 
I shout to Him,
I hum,
I whistle,
I sing when I bucket shower,
I sing to myself as I work. 
Sometimes I worship only to the music in my mind, my whole heart beating rapidly but my body held still. 
I worship Him in head nods,
in closed eyes,
in lip bites,
steady rocking,
intense jumping.
 
I worship Him in sweeping the floor,
in cleaning up water spills,
in knocking the dirt off the shoes in the entryway. 
I worship Him in keeping the chairs in line,
in putting food back in the fridge. 
In filling the water bucket up to flush the poop down. 
I worship in eating the leftovers He’s provided,
and by thanking the workers at the internet café. 
 
I worship Him in shoveling dirt,
in laying bricks,
in irrigating standing water at the church site. 
 
I worship Him in leading the way around,
or in submitting myself to someone else’s lead. 
I worship in praying for healing and health.
 
I worship Him in car rides,
with headphones screaming
or in silent reflection. 
In every mountain we pass
and every beautiful jungle view. 
I worship Him by turning rough situations into goofy songs or cheers. 
I worship Him in long walks, to the slow steady cadence of my gait. 
I worship Him with legs to run
legs to dance,
legs to squat.
I worship Him in games, delighting in the community He’s placed me in. 
I worship Him in helping buy groceries. 
In offering to walk someone across the street. 
In letting someone get to the bathroom before I do,
or spending less time in the shower than I’d like.
 
I worship Him in conversation,
in humor
and in deep discussion. 
I worship Him in making people laugh,
on hugging teammates when they’re sick,
or when they made me smile,
or when they look like they want to punch me in the face,
or when I can’t stand a word they’re saying. 
I worship Him in feedback, when I’m tired and sore and dirty and sick of people,
by saying thank you and smiling,
by shutting my mouth
and holding my tongue,
by dying to myself every night,
and fighting to lose as many battles as possible.
 
I worship Him by being honest. 
I worship Him by calling out the best in my teammates. 
I worship Him by listening.  
I worship Him by stepping up. 
I worship Him by taking advice.
I worship Him by heeding my teammates’ feedback. 
 
I worship Him by smiling at strangers. 
By holding kids in my arms. 
By tickling them. 
With head nods and noises,
waves and goofy faces,
by holding kids’ hands
or splashing in the surf with them until my legs refuse to hold me up. 
I worship Him by teaching,
and I worship Him by allowing myself to be taught. 
I worship Him by speaking to Him,
and by listening too. 
I worship in the morning out of thankfulness,
and again in the morning when I wake up,
and then again
and again
and again
and again
and again throughout the day. 
I worship when I’m thankful
and I worship when I realize my character is not where it needs to be. 
I worship in repenting,
I worship in humbling myself,
I worship in apologizing. 
I worship in forgiving
and I worship in extending grace. 
 
I worship in English,
I worship in Tamil,
I worship in Spanish
and Malay
and in my own babbling. 
I worship in patience
and I worship in perseverance. 
I worship in my alone time
and I worship in fellowship. 
 
I worship when I feel it
and I worship when it’s the last thing I want to do. 
I worship in the struggles
and the trials
and the frustrations,
and I worship in the concessions I make for other teammates,
and in the times I concede to their help. 
 
I’m learning how to worship Him with everything I do, with everything I say, and with every interaction I have.  Some days I’m better at it than others.  But mostly I’m just thankful for the opportunity to learn from my Savior, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, and my closest friend.   
 
Love, Danny