Heartfelt worship of God is an awesome thing in which to participate. You know, the kind where the music is just right and you're on your knees with hands lifted high, voice lifted higher, and eyes scrunched closed? Passionate. Deep. Intimate. Real.
It's moments like this that I yearn for with God. I love them. I may even crave them.
I had one of those at church tonight. We were singing Hillsong United's "The Stand" and I was on my knees very quickly. Peyson saw that my eyes were closed, and, as any two-year-old would, assumed I was asleep. "Waykup, Daddee! Waykup!" he cried, tugging on my shirt. Still singing, I looked him in the eye and smiled. It was cute. I tousled his hair and returned my attention to God. He's done this before; I figured he'd say it again and I'd smile again. How wrong I was.
I came out of my reverie with a sharp "Ow!" Shocked and slightly embarrassed, I opened my eyes to see two large blue eyes and a big, toothy grin; Peyson had no idea he'd hurt me. I shook it off, pointed him toward the nursery, and went back to singing. A big, toothy grin spread onto my face too: my boy.
Hours later, my cheeks are still a little red (from the sting, not the embarrassment) and I'm enjoying sharing the experience with my readers. I don't think I want to relive that worshipful moment, but I do long for more touches from God. Praise the Lord Peyson hadn't found anything bigger or sharper with which to "wake" me!
By the way, the clappers are now stored just a teensy bit higher on the nursery shelf. ;-)