Worship

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If I could put all the musical notes in a bucket, I still could not carry a tune. Singing on key was not a trait I acquired, nor learned. Publicly I would mouth the words and pretend I was singing. In my alone time, I could verbally bellow or drone and again pretend I was singing.

Often, old hymns and lyrics came to my mind and I attempted to hum and find the chords. Everything came out monotone. That is to say, “Amazing Grace” sounded just like “Jesus Loves Me.” And since He did, love me, amazingly – I tried to praise Him in song.

Tried being the opportune word, He accepted my praises as He did all worship. Pleasingly. They were pleas! “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” was one of my favorites. It was a plea and a prayer. In response, Christ deadened His ears to the tune and heard only the request. He listens to the words, not the volume or tone or melody. He hears my soul.

Oh, I know a beautifully sung praise is like an aromatic breath rising up to God. The Bible says so. But it also says to go to your prayer closet and not be showy with your words. So “I go to the Garden Alone.” It is my prayer closet. And I sing unto the Lord.

My voice reaches the high, heavenly places and maybe the aroma isn’t (shall we say) pleasing, it is welcomed. It is welcomed, blessed and honored. For each song is a prayer request, a hope and assurance. “Just as I am” He loves me.

He loves me singing. He loves me praying. He loves me sleeping. He loves when I sing in my sleep. It is there that the tune and lyrics meet up and become a pleasing fragrance. For in my dreams I praise God in harmony with my voice.

In my sleep where the world’s challenges and trials are at rest; where my infirmities and fears are lifted, I praise God. Such is the Kingdom of God. On Earth the only glimpse of Heaven is in my sleep. Heaven is where God’s will be done. Where angels praise Him and His throne is adorned with their perfume. Their hymns and melodies are far greater than any I have ever heard or dreamed.

But one day, in that grand awakening, I shall arise. And when I arise, I will fall down on my face singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lamb.” My words will be met by notes of perfect pitch. The pleasant fragrance released will be received. My sleepy songs will arouse, as I rise to the Father. I will be welcomed as angels greet me. We will sing together, how a “Savior came from Glory”.

On that day, I won’t be alone in the garden. I will be amazed. Grace overcomes death. That closer walk becomes hand in hand. All those tunes in the bucket dance around the throne. “Oh, what a wonderful, wonderful day that will be!”

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