Confession: I am not an awesome singer. I mean, I can carry a tune and blend into the background of a choir well enough, but I’ve never exactly been soloist material. I can’t even figure out what exactly harmony is and how exactly to do it (despite the most valiant attempts with my sister and excluding a couple of choice John Denver songs — John and I get each other). Honestly though, I always kind of thought that my totally average voice was a blessing in disguise, because if anything close to stellar was coming out of my mouth, I would never shut up and inevitably turn into Rachel Berry from Glee and have zero friends.
At training camp this week, God has been speaking through themes of freedom and identity — nothing too dramatic or intense…NOT. Our days are divided between worship and teaching sessions, with a generous plate of crying and processing God’s voice on the side. A lot of the aspects of this week are new to me, especially the worship. Jonathan and Melissa, the worship leaders, create an environment unlike any other I’ve ever experienced before. The room explodes with joy and energy, people dancing and twirling to the music and spontaneously making up the lyrics as they go.
In a word, it’s insane.
It’s not what I’m used to and entering into that type of worship has been daunting. I look around me, wondering if these people can possibly be for real, if that kind of worship is hiding somewhere in me, if something is wrong with me and my spirit that I do not convulse or burst with original words while worshipping. I have certainly had time before the Lord this week, intimate moments of praise, but it looks so different than the people around me, and I have to wonder if I’m missing something.
Then yesterday, Melissa spoke about finding your voice, about singing heaven into this broken, broken world. I have been praying and asking God to let me see the people around me the same way that He does, but what I realized is that that is not what really matters — what really matters is that I see myself the way that God sees me. And I know that this is totally cliche and a third grade epiphany, but God doesn’t care how I sing or how I worship or that it looks different than other peoples’ worship. He just wants praise and He wants it from me.
As Melissa continued to speak truth, pulling the voice out of us, everyone began to sing one long, wordless note. I didn’t worry about how it sounded, I just let this noise escape out of me and something really beautiful happened. The room filled with everyone singing their own song, their own note, and it blended into the most perfect harmony I’ve ever experienced. The air pulsed — it was alive and buzzing as if we were in the middle of a beehive. In that moment, it was so clear, so completely evident, that we all have our own song to sing before Jesus. Before Him, my voice is perfect. Before Him, I can stand still or raise my arms or dance like crazy, and He will accept the praise of my heart regardless. Before Him, I’m allowed to never shut up — He never wants His children to shut up! I have a voice and Jesus wants to hear it all the time, the same way that you have a voice and Jesus wants to hear that one too. So sing or hum or whistle or nod along or stand completely still. Just spend your day in worship to the Lord, for He is good.
