Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise His holy name. (Psalm 103:1)
A worship song moves through the sanctuary, and my church family stands. I’ve come today with a heavy heart. Worry has been a companion. Try as I may, I can’t break free.
As voices swell in unison, I look to the rows in front of me. People are shoulder-to-shoulder. Side-by-side. And I know that in my struggle I am not alone. I see a friend whose battle has been in my own prayers. Another friend who has experienced a loss I cannot imagine. The beautiful soul beside me has had hard times with her health.
We’re in varied places of brokenness. Different pain and different circumstances, but a fracture of the spirit is a fracture just the same.
When we bow down,
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For just a moment, I’m overwhelmed with sadness. It flows from a deep well. I want to weep for it all. But then, with the next heartbeat, I see something precious. Something so beautiful that it almost takes my breath.
This is where the broken go.
It’s here that we bring our hurt. Our pain. Our struggles and worries and fears. We gather together in this sanctuary.
But really we’re gathering at the throne.
We’ve come to worship. We’ve come to praise. We come together, at this time, in this place, to exalt the One we love. The One who holds our hearts and our lives. The One who is Abba. Daddy.
The intimacy of this relationship with the Father brings every form of sustenance. In this place, when our hearts are turned heavenward and our eyes are fully fixed on Him, there is no room for worry. It pales in His power.
When we bow down, our fear does, too.
We experience His presence and glory and might.
And there is comfort.
And there is hope.
Lonny is beside me and his hand moves and covers mine. We stand together, and my own voice joins the voices around me.
This is where the broken go.
In His presence we’re made whole.
