I’m going to tell a funny story on myself.

As a child, my concept of worship was limited. At church we sang different hymns each week so I didn’t really learn the melodies, with a few exceptions. Not that hymns aren’t beautiful. I just sang them in the same way I said the pledge of allegiance before school each morning. It was just something we did.

“that guy”

Back in the early 80s, my husband and I attended a wonderful church. The congregation was warm and friendly…the pastor, an excellent teacher. But during worship, one guy would predictably lift up his arms in praise. It really bothered me. I felt tense inside.

I thought…this is embarrassing! Why is he drawing attention to himself? Worship should be about God!

Then one Sunday, my husband and I invited his mother to join us at the first service. I was pretty sure that guy attended the second service. I glanced around the sanctuary. To my relief, he wasn’t there. Closing my eyes, I sang the first song from my heart. But as the second song started, I opened my eyes to see that guy inching his way past others to sit directly in front of us.

Up went his hands!

My face became hot. I could feel my mother-in-law’s uneasiness. She purposely didn’t look at him. His body and arms kept us from seeing the lyrics on the screen. My lips formed a tight line. I was too annoyed to join in the worship.Continue reading