I can’t sing. For a person whose life finds its center in music, this is a big deal.

It started in February. After learning that my mom had cancer, I found myself unable to sing a few of the songs at church without crying. Then during chorale rehearsals, I cried every time we practiced Ashoken Farewell. As my mother worsened, my music selections dwindled. Soon I no longer reached for the radio or sat in a song service that could be avoided.

I thought, in time, my song would return to me. But even now, more than three months past mom’s funeral, I find myself standing silent while others are worshipping, tears streaming down my face.

Worshipping in dust and ashes

In these last months, I’ve come to understand what Job felt when he said,

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.  – Job 1:21

Job was devastated by the loss of his children. These words did not come from his lips flippantly. In his lowest moment, face pressed to the ground, tears turning the dust to mud, Job worshipped. He didn’t lift his hands. He didn’t sing a song. He simply surrendered all he had and all he was to the God who held Him in His hands.

My dear friend, when grief presses you to the dust, worship there! … Remember the exhortation of the Psalmist David, “Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us” (Psalm 62:8). When you are bowed down beneath a heavy burden of sorrow, worship and adore God there. In full surrender to His divine will, say with Job, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15). This kind of worship subdues the will, arouses the affections, stirs the whole mind, and presents you to God in solemn consecration. This worship sweetens sorrow and takes away its sting.

– Charles Spurgeon, Beside Still Waters

Worshipping from the inside out

Worship is both outward action and inward response. Body, soul, and spirit united in surrender and adoration to God for who He is. Worshipping at church on Sunday can look very different from a tear stained pillow at night, but God sees the heart. He knows when our spirits rebel against His will for our lives and when we humbly submit to it.

I believe someday I will sing again. But until I do, I will silently affirm my belief in God’s goodness and my trust in His plan.

Do I understand? No. Thankfully, understanding is not a prerequisite for worship. If that were so, no one could bow before the One that is infinitely beyond all we can imagine. All He asks for are hearts bowed in love and humility.

When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move,
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through,
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You,
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You.

-Lauren Daigle

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have a voice with which to praise. But I believe that God is at work for my good and His glory…and that is a sacrifice well pleasing to the Father.

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