I’m not sure what the total snowfall is in our area yet, but at one point the snow was three feet deep in our driveway, and some forecasts are calling for anywhere from 6 to 13 more inches in the next 24 hours. But what do they know.
Our snowy days have outnumbered our non-snowy days in the past couple weeks. The paths in the yard are lined with walls of snow that are getting higher and higher, and the chickens stayed in their coops for days. We are all hunkering, waiting for the next storm that is promised for tonight and tomorrow.
We broke out the puzzle table last night. I’m not sure why it took us so long this year; normally by now we’d have completed one or two puzzles already. But we also forgot to schedule our annual movie night with friends (how do you forget to do something that’s annual?) and I’m not sure where the time has gone.
Well, I do, sort of. We have poultry now, so that’s been a new routine to get used to. And like I said, we’ve had a ton of weather. Plus family from out of town. And some big kid situations.
So the weeks have flown by and it’s almost the middle of December already and my birthday is in a couple days and we have another birthday right after that, and I don’t really know what we have planned for either of those days and – and –
Deep breath.
Still the frenzy. Focus on the Father. Wait for the music to get back in tune, because it will.
The girls are practicing Christmas carols, and it’s magical: The Christmas lights, the voices I love, the notes on the piano intricate, mysterious, and penetrating.
But later I’m on the phone in the middle of a hard conversation while one kid practices piano and her toddler brother “helps” her with as many dissonant chords as he can fit into four measures of music. I quick-walk to the other side of the house so I can hear the person on the other end of the line.
The piano is neutral; it can make music or mayhem. The snow is neutral, too: It can make things beautiful or dangerous. Sometimes both.
On the way to town yesterday I was almost hit by someone pulling out onto the highway right in front of me. My headlights were on, and he couldn’t have missed seeing me. So, cars are neutral, too – they can safely move us from place to place, or, driven by someone who thinks their superpower is the ability to drive through oncoming traffic, they can be mechanized weapons of destruction.
The world is a beautiful and dangerous place. It is still snowing and we are still unburying, and it’s a picture of the stress some of us are dealing with currently, yes? We barely have time to clear one area — or even realize it’s demanding our attention — before another foot of snow drops. The situations take turns bobbing to the surface because everything can’t be processed at once: destructive behaviors, systemic corruption, difficult conversations, unexpected responsibilities, future certainties that are wreathed in unknowns.
I was worshiping when I was almost hit by that car. The radio was off and I was rehearsing a word the Lord had given me to hold onto; I was repeating the words aloud so I would remember them. I saw that car up ahead to my right start spinning its tires and moving forward into the highway, and I kept repeating the words aloud but in my head I thought, Surely that guy is going to turn right into the lane next to me. Surely he’s not trying to cross the entire highway.
But the guy clearly was trying to cross the entire highway, and I was still repeating the words as he started to enter my lane, perpendicular to traffic flow. I swerved in passing, somehow avoided colliding with his front bumper, and fishtailed to recover. And I’m so glad I prayed before I left the driveway, and was worshiping down the highway.
Would it have been different otherwise? No doubt. Worship is never neutral; it either destroys or brings life. The target of our worship is what makes the difference.
We talked recently about how we know how to tell things where to go, but what we didn’t mention is how often we move things unintentionally with our voices. Sound is just movement, vibrations going through matter. Our words are waves of movement through the air. The sound waves make an object vibrate, and the air expands, and then compresses. Things in the unseen move.
A friend told me years ago that worship is our war ship, and we know that much of the battle takes place in our minds. Will we focus on fear, or will we advance in faith? Will we worship the Lord, or will we bow to our own vanity and comfort? The answers to these questions determine which side of the battle we’re really on.
There are high notes of movement where people are fighting for truth in the spotlight for all to see. There are quiet, steady, low notes of behind the scenes movement in every home where people are pursuing forgiveness, teaching their children, stewarding the land, and praying without ceasing.
Even in our overwhelm, we contribute to the music every time we refuse to cave to despair. Even in the onslaught of storm warnings and stressors, we choose to be in tune and aligned with His word and will for us: We will not bow to fear. We will be aggressive in our joy, confident and hope-filled for our future, because we know the Father loves us and in Him there is no darkness at all.
You are not silent, unseen, unnoticed, or unpowerful; you have a role in the harmony that is sometimes in the background but also has moments of loud prominence in conjunction with others around you. There are no big names leading this, no solo efforts. Moreover, no one gets to sit on the bench and wait for the big hitters to do all the work and get all the applause. This isn’t a recreational sport; this is an anthem and we all need to sing.
We don’t worship God into a room, we worship to open ourselves into His reality.
– Dano McCollam
Worship keeps our eyes on the greater reality and helps us rise above whatever threatens to bury us. Principalities and powers are brought into submission. Thoughts are taken captive, and the captives are set free.
The walls bow outward, then cave inward. Light shifts, and air particles move. You may not see it but you know something is happening. If you listen, you can hear the key change.
For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.
– 2 Corinthians 10:3-5
The good news is that you don’t always have to be making noise to be part of the song. There are pauses and fermatas; we must selah and breathe. There are days when the feelings are too much, the pain is too sharp, the lungs are too tight and breathing is a work in itself. Sometimes the enemy throws some wrong notes onto someone’s music stand and they play them anyway, creating dissonance and anger; the sound is too loud and the colors are too bright, and we have to step away from our chair for a minute to get our own breath in the right rhythm again before adding to the discord.
Breathe in, and then out. Grieve in, and then out. Give the oxygen time to replenish and do the work until the pulse pounding gets quieter and you can think clearer thoughts again.
Wounding doesn’t disqualify or diminish you. It doesn’t make you inferior. That’s the enemy’s lie because he doesn’t want you to know that the wounding, stewarded well, helps you rise higher – the warrior must know wounding and pain to lead others in compassion and wisdom. This is how your range expands, how you hit notes you never could before.
God gives us a mantle, not of entitlement, but of strength and authority every time we conquer through pain. This is the power of meekness: forgiving and overcoming, being broken and then healing in a way that makes you stronger than before. You are gentle but uncompromising as you come out on the other side. It is Gandalf defeating the Balrog; it is Jesus defeating death. We die to self in big and small ways, and if we can still manage to worship, we come out brighter than before.
Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.
– Philippians 2:14-16
Every time truth is spoken the light gets brighter, the darkness is pressed back and the cacophony diminishes. The movement aligns and the music grows into a tighter, fuller euphony. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it.
The dissonance recedes. The chords strengthen; the harmonies come into focus. Notes emerge that are high and strong, sailing over like a banner of triumph.
