Regulations,
checklists, field manuals, training manuals, and standing operating procedures
circumscribe life in the Army. Twenty-seven years conforming to strictly
enforced standards shaped me into a buttoned-down, squared away individual. I
am on time. I place great value on self-control in all circumstances. I thrive
on good order and discipline. I do my best to always follow through in every
situation. I march to the sound of the guns and tend to conform to the
standards of my organization. For the most part, this makes me a very
successful individual. Discipline and willingness to follow orders works well
in the civilian work environment as well as the military. Of course, such
discipline and self-control do not work in worship.
Worship in
spirit and truth requires surrender of self. True, deep worship involves a
certain reckless abandon. And when I come to the edge and look over into the
abyss of the unknown, I hesitate and draw back. Emotions are tricky things and
once unleashed, are not easily harnessed once again. Yet, in every worship
service, the praise band calls me into unrestrained worship. They lead by
example, giving themselves totally to the moment, surrendering to a greater,
higher, power. They wade into the living water, turn and beckon to me, saying,
“Come on in. The water’s fine. This is a safe place to be.”
As with all
humans, there are untidy places in my life, things I did poorly, things I
failed to do, sins whose effects still echo in those quiet moments of my life. I
have emotions I keep tucked away in a locked cupboard behind a carefully
lettered sign which reads, “DO NOT OPEN!” God wants me to open the doors and
let the sweet breath of His Spirit waft away those hurts and fears. I hesitate.
And then I see them, reveling in His presence, preparing the way for those more
timid souls. And as the waves of sound wash over me, they take me by the hand
and usher me into a safer, closer place; a place where God softly and gently
removes the “DO NOT OPEN” sign, opens the doors, and blows away the hurt,
guilt, and pain, leaving healing, joy, and peace. They help me loosen the ingrained,
well-practiced, comfortable constraints of military life. They open the doors
to that special place. A place where effervescent joy sometimes bubbles up sometimes
tears flow, and sometimes through them, the Lord leads me to a peaceful place
where a sublime unexplainable calm floods my soul. Led by them and their
example, I peek behind the veil and behold God. And isn’t that the purpose of
worship.
