I worry about what’s going to happen when I finally go back to live church.

It’s been over a year now, and I can’t wait. But from what I’ve heard, every service at every Eagle Brook location is packed again. Oh, people are required to wear masks, and the set-up is such that there’s still a row and a seat or two in between groups attending together. But how does one turn down “just one more” seeker who walks in the door? 

We opened a new location in Ham Lake on Easter Sunday. We offered four-services—two on Saturday, two on Sunday. Two thousand two hundred and twenty-nine (2,229!) people showed up. That’s simply unheard of, isn’t it? That’s my church, and I miss being there, right in the center of it all, experiencing the Holy Spirit at work. 

For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, I understand. It sounds a little…over the top, doesn’t it?

And that’s what I’m worried about. Because over the past year of watching church online in the privacy of my own home, not only have I been singing at the top of my lungs and crying openly when a song or a message hits my heart just so, but there’s more: 

There have been times that I simply cannot help but raise my hands.
Yes. I’ve become one of THOSE PEOPLE.

I used to believe that people who raised their hands in worship were just a bunch of whack-a-doodles, showing off their spiritual superiority for the crowd.

I’ve since learned that’s not it at all. In fact, it’s just opposite. 

Imagine a young child wanting to be held by a loving parent. What does that little one do? They stand, reach, and wait for mommy or daddy to pick them up and hold them tight.

Raising one’s hands in worship is just like that. When we lift up our hands to God, it’s a physical expression of our love and need for our Abba Father. It’s dependence, reverence and praise all rolled into one. And sometimes you just can’t help it.

Scripture

Psalm 63:4: “I will praise you as long as I live, lifting up my hands to you in prayer.”

Application

It’s not just in church. Today it was the song “Every Beat” playing on KTIS as I cleaned bathrooms. I sang along just as loudly as can be, raised my unstoppable hands, and then sat down to write this post. 

Sometimes you just can’t help it.

Prayer

Father, thank You for bringing me to this place of worshipping You with my whole being. I will praise You as long as I live, lifting up my hands to You in prayer. Amen.

* * * * * *

Listen closely to the words. You just can’t help it, can you?

 

One Comment

  • I must admit I’ve only been a wacka doodle once or twice at church and sadly a year at home watching my church service, while always engaging, hasn’t made me want to sing or dance. Lol. I’d spill my coffee!! If I lived alone I would definitely 🎶 sing. Hope you’re enjoying your baby time!!

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