Make a joyful shout to the Lord, all you lands! Serve the Lord with gladness; Come before His presence with singing. Know that the Lord, He is God; It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves;We are His people and the sheep of His pasture. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name. For the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations. – Psalm 100
We humans are worshippers. We will worship. It is not something we have to muster up; worship comes naturally to us. What or whom we worship varies. Followers of Christ are drawn to worship God by His Spirit and in response to the Truth we find in Scripture. When the church gathers, we worship.
The church coming together in corporate worship can be a glimpse of Heaven. We are often led in worship by someone (or a team) entrusted by the church with that responsibility. It is not a light thing to lead a people into worship. There is ever the threat of moving the people’s focus from God to the worship leaders themselves. A glorious choir, cool band, or winsome worship team can put on a really good show and our attention drifts from God…to them.
We have been blessed over the years by worshipping God with other believers in many situations. In congregations of thousands and in a small living room with another family. With worship led by one person on guitar and with a great choir and orchestra. In our own heart language and in Arabic, French, and other languages. In times of leanness of spirit and times when our hearts soared with gratitude to God.
Part of our gratitude goes to those worship leaders who help us shake off the cares of our lives for those moments as we gather. They lead us, through their own prayers, music, and servant attitudes, to train our hearts toward God and fix our eyes on Him. Holy perspective follows.
One of those worship leaders who has been a delight to us is Keilan Creech. He is a young singer/song-writer, and we had the privilege of worshipping under his leadership for a couple of years. He grew up in Brazil but currently studies and works in Richmond, Virginia. We don’t see him often, but when we do, I tell him, “We will always be able to say ‘we knew you when’….” One day, you will know him as his music career takes off, and I’m thinking he will be the same Keilan Creech we know, who loves God and loves the church.
His album Dying for a Change plays regularly when we’re at home, and on our phones and in our car as we travel. Nathan Mills played electric guitar on that album and is now one of our worship leaders in the house church where we gather to worship. We are in a different season from the days of church of hundreds with Keilan and his team leading worship, but we continue to be blessed as church gathered, led in worship of a GOD who makes our hearts sing.
Today marks the 13th anniversary of the 9/11 bombings in the US, and we all have our stories of where we were when we heard that terrible news. I heard the news as an elevator door opened in a hospital emergency room in Cairo, Egypt. The surgeon watching for us to deliver the patient walking into the elevator, saying, “I am so, so sorry.” I thought he was referring to the precious one on the stretcher beside me, so small and injured from a terrible bus accident the day before. It turns out he was talking about the news that traveled instantly from the States about the bombings. I’d like to go back to the day before. For us, it would help to go there, before I can ever process the grief of this day that we all share.
It was like any other Monday, that bright, warm September 10th in Cairo, Egypt…until the phone call. Janna was on the other end of the call, telling me that Genessa and April had been in a bus accident on the Sinai. April had called her and relayed their location, at a hospital in Sharm el-Sheikh. These were girls in our Middle Eastern Studies Program, and they were finishing their time with us, taking a vacation together. They would re-trace some of their experiences in Bedouin villages across the Sinai and then enjoy a few days on the Red Sea. They were to return that Monday, traveling in on one of the over-night buses across the desert.
Details will have to wait for another time, but with this information, my husband, Dave, left immediately with Janna and a local Egyptian friend who was also one of our language coaches. He took these two women because of their relationship with each other and with all of us. He also understood that there were two injured friends hours away in a hospital who would need women to minister to their needs. I would be praying and on the phone the rest of the day with families, other friends, US Embassy people, and our other young people in the program. I can’t begin to describe the emotional nature of that day…not knowing, hoping, praying.
When Dave and our friends arrived at the hospital, he was directed to April. She had painful, serious injuries, but none life-threatening, praise God. Then he was escorted into the critical care area to see Genessa. To his horror, it wasn’t Genessa. It was another young woman, unconscious – an Italian tourist, who rode in the same ambulance with April. April, lucid and still able to communicate, had tried to comfort her on that long dark ride to the hospital. Personal belongings were all scrambled at the wreck site, and the authorities made the mistakened decision that because April was speaking to her, she was Genessa.
Then Dave went on the search for our dear one…somewhere else in the Sinai. He back-tracked toward the site of the accident, checking other hospitals where other injured were taken. At this point, he was also talking to US Embassy staff, as he drove through the desert. Just shortly before he arrived at the hospital where he would find Genessa, the staff person told him they confirmed her identification from a credit card she had in her pocket…in the morgue of that small village hospital.
Dave and Janna, that friend who received the first phone call, stood beside this precious girl’s body, to make the formal identification…to know for sure that this was Genessa. And it was…and yet not. She, the luminous, laughing, loving girl we knew, was gone. It was more than any of us who loved her could take in on that Monday evening in Cairo, Egypt…the day before 9/11.
As they left the hospital to return to April, two more friends joined them from Cairo to help. For any of you who have been completely spent in every way by such a day, you can understand what it was for them to look up and see Matt and Richard getting out of a car. God in His great goodness alerted them, stirred their hearts to drive all those hours…and then to arrive…just when they were most needed. So many arrangements had to be made…and most importantly, at that moment, to get April back safely and quickly to Cairo for surgery.
She came into Cairo on a plane near the middle of the day of 9/11. By the time we got her from the airport in an ambulance to the specialty hospital to get the further care she needed, a series of horrific events had begun taking place in the US. We would hear of them from this caring Egyptian surgeon…who had no idea how numb we were from losing Genessa and how concerned we were that April got what she needed as soon as possible. We were already so drenched by grief, this unfathomable news about the bombings washed over us without understanding the scope of it…the pain of it…for all the rest of America.
Later in that day, with April receiving the best care possible, and me watching by her side, I could take in some of the loss coming at us on the small t.v. mounted in the hospital room. Egyptians were telling us how so, so sorry they were for us (as Americans). If they only knew, they were our mourners for our loss of Genessa, too. In the din of world-changing news, and a country brought together in grief…we grieved, too, a continent away…for the losses of 9/11 and the day before.
That was 13 years ago…April healed from her injuries (only she and God know what all that took on the inside), the other young people in our program have gone on to careers and families across the US and around the world. We have also gone on…back to the US for now, and to other work.
Two things have not changed…a beautiful girl, who fell asleep by the window of a bus in the Sinai night and woke up in Heaven…and the God who welcomed her Home. There is so much, much, more to this story, but I have to close with this. As her family back in the US were pulling the pieces of their lives back together, and going through Genessa’s things, they found a little cassette player on her bed…there left by her, two years before, as she left for Cairo. In it was a cassette where she’d made a tape of her singing one of her favorite songs, I Long for the Day, by Dennis Jernigan.
If we look at Genessa’s life through the lens of some American dream, then we would think how tragic to die so young, so full of promise. Look through the lens of how much she loved God, and knowing Him was what mattered most to her…and all who knew her knew His love through her.
The strongest memories I have of the song Be Thou My Vision are connected with worship across North Africa. When our children were growing up, we “attended church” – expat families who gathered once or twice a week to worship in English. We sang great hymns, old and more modern, with guitar accompaniment, and worship leaders with more British and Irish accents than American. I remember our little family, strung out along a pew of these little churches. Our stair-step children, with shoulders squared, singing from hymnals in the early years and then words projected on the stuccoed front walls.
We sang Be Thou My Vision, this old Irish hymn, across three countries in Heliopolis Community Church (Cairo), St. George’s (Tunis), and St. John’s (Casablanca). Before our children all launched back into life in the US, we “attended” church less and became a part of house churches. There we still sang Be Thou My Vision, still with guitar…less with a British or Irish accent.
Now to Rend Collective. I heard this group for the first time on my radio about a year ago. The song was Second Chance*. I jotted down the group’s name and song (while driving…sigh) and would later buy the album** based on that one song. Have you ever done that?
When I heard You are My Vision, my first thought was how could anyone mess with such a great hymn that so truly magnifies God? As I listened, the personal nature of this version drew me in. This old Irish hymn written in the 8th century has been, not-so-much-updated but, celebrated by an Irish group of young worshippers. Not celebrating the song so much as celebrating the Saviour of the song.
You are my vision, oh King of mine heart. Nothing else satisfies, only You, Lord. You are my best thought, by day or by night. Waking or sleeping, Your presence, my light.
You are my wisdom; You are my true word – I ever with You and You with me, Lord. You’re my great Father and I’m Your true Son. You dwell inside me, together we’re one.
You are my battle shield, sword for the fight. You are my dignity; You’re my delight. You’re my soul’s shelter, and You’re my high tower. Come raise me heavenward, oh, Power of my power.
I don’t want riches or a man’s empty praise. You’re my inheritance, now and always. You and You only, the first in my heart – High king of heaven, my treasure You are.
High king of heaven, when victory’s won, may I reach heaven’s joy, oh, bright heaven’s Son. Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision, oh, Ruler of all.
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision, oh, Ruler of all.
My family, growing up, was not in church until I was 6 years old. Any awareness of spiritual songs began then for me. The Baptist Hymnal of my childhood was my worship textbook in those days. Then came the Christian Contemporary Music worship movement of the 1970s. When our children were born in the ’80s, there were songs deep in my heart that would become heartsongs for our three little ones as well. The main reason is that they would fall asleep to them at night, as we sang them during that wind-down time before lights-out.
My husband and I wanted to be the kind of parents who had family devotions faithfully [“Bible before breakfast” sort of thing], but that didn’t work out very often. We both had our own quiet times with the Lord, but adding people (especially little people) to that mix was a challenge beyond us for most of the years of our children’s growing up.
We did, however, do bed-time rituals very well – we needed those routines probably as much as the kids did. No matter where we lived (and we lived a lot of places), bedtime was a sacred benediction to the day – bath, pj’s, teeth-brushing, a bit of play just for fun (to draw out the rest of the day’s energy), and then to bed. “To bed” also included a story, prayers, and a song or two. By then, our children were, for the most part, settled, snuggled down, ready to let the day go.
We always sang the same 2-3 songs. All through their growing up years. Right until they somehow arrived at that point when lullabies went the way of story-time. They read their own Bibles and they chose their own music. It happens (always) so fast.
Those 3 songs were Jesus, Name Above All Names (Naida Hearn, 1974); Jesus – There’s Something About That Name (Gloria & Bill Gaither, 1970); and I Love You, Lord, and I Lift My Voice (Laurie Klein, 1978). These three songs soothed to sleep our three little ones wherever we were. Today, they are grown and their millenial music tastes have grown with them. Still, these songs remind them, and us, of a time that seems not so long ago – when we were a family of five who, at the end of the day, loved Jesus – no matter where we were, with children growing up across four countries. Those simple little praise songs, turned lullabies, sealed each day with the hum and the cuddle of God’s unfailing love.
What lullabies do you remember? Singing them or hearing them as you nodded off to sleep…
Don’t forget to post in Comments what your favorite lullabies were…or what songs you can imagine would make great lullabies for raising up worshippers.
As you think…I’m posting a “through the years” sequence of our sleeping child…the one who could sleep anywhere at any time…who still needed those lullabies at night…and is one of those worshippers today.
“…so that they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us;for in Him we live and move and have our being.” – Acts 17:27-28a
Yearn is a word that has too long been neglected. Owned by sonnet-writers and dreamers, this could well-describe God-worshippers. Last night, I rediscovered it during a lazy evening with friends. One is a Chinese student ravenous to master English vocabulary. We were looking in one of my textbooks and a list of feelings/emotions caught her attention. Many of the words were familiar to her from conversations with American friends, but one stood out unknown and, for us native English speakers, hard to describe: yearning.
As we were trying to describe it, her nearest friend in our group pulled up a song on Youtube. It is “Yearn” by Shane & Shane.
When you go to bed at night, do you ever struggle to get your mind quiet enough to sleep? Do your longings push through such that until you pray them out you can’t sleep? That’s how last night was for me. I long to know God’s purpose for these days in my life…I long to be closer to my children…I long for some of my friends and family to know Jesus…I long for….so many things. And sleep finally comes.
This morning the ache of some of those same longings woke with me. Then in the quiet, with my coffee and the Word, a yearning for God Himself settled those other longings in their proper place.
“Father, I cry out to You. Let me rest in Your arms, that the world might not press in so, disturbing the peace. You only are the One who completely satisfies – otherwise we lean toward wanting more and more of something less. God, bring me to a place where obeying and following You is all I want. My soul gets tormented by things that are undone or not yet – relationships that aren’t where I’d like them to be; responsibilities that seem beyond my abilities; God, draw me to Yourself. Help me to be where You want me to be, and then everything else will be, at least, ordered rightly. Father, I lay down these longings – these relationships; these responsibilities – and lift my face toward Yours, yearning only for You right now. I love You, Lord. Teach me to love You more. In Jesus. Amen.”
But from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find Him if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul. – Deuteronomy 4:29
Thus says the Lord: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you. For I am the Lord your God…” Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea and a path through the mighty waters. — Isaiah 43:1-2, 16
Last summer I was persuaded to attend a Kari Jobe concert. Live concerts don’t do for me these days what they did once upon a time (so much celebrity focus & the crowd issues). Also Kari Jobe was unknown to me (loved Revelation Song but through other artists). The concert was billed as a “Night of Worship” which intrigued me. Also, going with a group of young women who all love Jesus sealed the deal.
The venue was a huge church with a cavernous worship space. When Kari and her band took the stage, the room went dark. The stage was lit with strings of twinkle lights, bare bulb floor lights out front, and backed by a curtain-to-curtain panel on which video was projected. Lyrics of each song were shown for us to truly be part of the worship. It was, in spite of all the gorgeousness of the artists, truly a night of worshipping God. Kari Jobe and band prayed, sang, and danced through each song, and we with them.
One song, in particular, touched my heart and still ministers to my spirit every time I hear or sing it. It is “Oceans” written by Matt Crocker, Joel Houston, and Salomon Ligthelm. In the night of worship with Kari Jobe, during this song, the stage backdrop was covered by a video of enormous, rolling and tumbling waves. As we sang the lyrics, the waves mesmerized us all. I felt my smallness before a GOD who created oceans. If it weren’t for the desire to praise Him through those lyrics, that visual of those powerful crashing waves would have silenced me in awe of the One so much bigger than His creation.
This praise song, Oceans, brings Isaiah 43 to mind – a faithful God calling out to an unfaithful people.
Lord, give us ears to hear You even amidst rolling waves and raging seas. Fill us with Your faithfulness.
“Oceans”
You call me out upon the waters the great unknown where feet may fail and there I find You in the mystery in oceans deep My faith will stand.
(Chorus) And I will call upon Your name and keep my eyes above the waves when oceans rise; my soul will rest in Your embrace for I am Yours and You are mine.
Your grace abounds in deepest waters; Your sovereign hand will be my guide. Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me You’ve never failed and You won’t start now.
(Chorus) Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders; let me walk upon the waters wherever You would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior.
