Whenever I hear something multiple times, I know it’s God trying to get my attention. And even though I had a whole other post prepared for today, this is the one that keeps rearing its head.
I’ve been reflecting on instilling a heart of worship into my children. Then the Sunday sermon was all about God being the center of our worship. And when I came home today, my afternoon reading stopped me short:
Since we were made to glorify God, worship happens when someone is doing exactly what he or she was made to do.
From Adorning the Dark by Andrew Peterson
Okay, Lord. I’m listening now.
But what was I made to do?
Worship, comes the still, small voice within me.
That’s it? But what am I supposed to do?
You know the gifts I gave you. Use them.
Then, the other doubting thoughts fly around like so many insects. Nothing you do will make a difference. It’s not good enough. You’re missing out on something.
I take a breath, knowing lies when I see them. But they still give me pause.
Years ago, and even now, I gravitated towards people who were doing exceptional things for the Kingdom. Speakers, authors, missionaries, martyrs. I wanted to be like them. I used to think I was called to be an overseas missionary. I still might be someday. I don’t know.
I distinctly remember a conversation I once had with someone I respected who told me that she used to have the same dream, but then she settled down and had a family instead. At the time, I scoffed and swore that wouldn’t be me.
And now, here I am wondering if all my striving was in the wrong direction.
We tend to worship the wrong things in this life. The children of Israel had their calf. I have my own idols. Even good things can receive my misplaced worship. Like an obsession over calling.
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I might be called to a different mission field: the home front. As I see the shifting sands of culture around me, I know there’s a desperate need for hope right where I’m at. I don’t have to go far to find the darkness. Maybe I need to illuminate shadows in my own backyard.
Perhaps calling is less about choosing the right path and more about simply choosing one. I need to stop worrying about the specifics of my calling and remember the why of it. Once I figure that out, the how and when will fall into place.
I am called to worship. Every act of my hands can work to fulfill that. And maybe someday, the Lord will reveal the rest of the roadmap. Or He could leave me to follow each step as He gives them. Either way, I can trust and obey the one command I’ve been given: in all things worship God, for He is holy.