It’s just another Sunday morning, another contemporary worship service.  A roomful of people following the words on the overhead, singing, the lady with the amazing voice singing the melody up front with the mic, the rhythm of the worship team swaying through the lyrics.  Drums.  Focus.  Concentrate.  The greatness of our God…holy holy…hosanna…the words are oh, so familiar.  Too familiar.  They float by like a cloud.

Something in me kicks into gear.  I want to sing like that lady up on stage, whose voice is so beautiful.  I would love to sing like that.  I can sing better than I’m singing, anyway.  I want to strike those high notes like a bell.  God would surely hear me, if I snapped out of my lethargic, half-hearted pose.  Sang the song strongly, clearly. Worshipped Him with a resounding voice.  Raise my hands as a proper posture to proudly mirror His great glory.

Thankfully, on this particular Sunday, these thoughts fell away quickly.  I could not adopt a proud attitude during worship.  In fact, I was brought to tears by the thought that I could ever think I could please God by singing perfectly or raising my hands at the right time.  The lady in front, in spite of her beautiful voice, was in the same place I was.“We’re all creatures.  And it’s OK to feel creaturely when you approach God.”

Feeling lower than God is OK.  It is actually right.

We are not on the same rung of the ladder as God.  Really not on the ladder at all. The children’s song, we are weak and He is strong, is not just for children.

I can bow my head and worship Him in a lowly posture, singing in barely a whisper, with a tear in my eye.   God is not impressed with how well I hit the notes or clap my hands.

All of a sudden I realize that I can’t even really worship Him without Him, I am that dependent.  And now I feel closer to Him than when I walked in.  Because I stop trying to be great and accept that I am utterly low in comparison, I can really worship with those things God deems important.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.   Psalm 51:17 NASB

The songs are starting to make sense.  God is great.  The greatness of our God.  Holy, holy.  Fundamentally, the words are the same…but are now imbued with meaning, and wonder – awestruck wonder – as my heart accepts its place in the universe that He is God…and I am not.