So me and Clif (my husband) argued the entire way to church on Sunday.

Correction, I think we may have argued from the time we rolled out of bed.  Don’t act shocked.  You’ve done it.  Don’t lie.  We were on time though… 7:29 AM, to be exact.  We had to be there by 7:30 AM.  (Sorry, I had to have a prideful moment for a second, we are never on time).  I mean, we had to be there to sing on praise team, so what’s wrong with that?  What kind of sin is it to be completely disrespectful to your husband approximately five minutes before you sing praises to the One True King?  Were my actions on Sunday wrong?  Were my actions on Sunday uncommon for most believers?  Should I have not sang on stage Sunday because of the sins I committed a few minutes before?  Or should I have just stayed home because my attitude wasn’t in the “right spot” to be with other believers?

I am the queen of questions… However, I believe I was exactly where I was supposed to be Sunday.  I know it is hard work and extremely difficult to get to church on Sunday mornings with my sweet husband and my precious 18 month old baby girl, but those 30 minutes of sound check before the 8:00 service are for me.  Many Sundays I do have some focused time before the crew wakes up and starts in the tornadic motion to get out the door on time.  But some Sundays I don’t.  A lot of Sundays, I don’t.  And I think that is okay.  Eighteen months ago, I would have said, “oh no, you better have that 45 minute quiet time before you get to church!”  Today, I have a new relationship with Jesus.  A relationship that is truly based on scripture and not a man-made belief system.  Living and abiding in constant movement with the Holy Spirit.  Don’t get me wrong, I am in the Word a lot throughout the week, but some days I miss.  Am I less of a Christian on those days?

I raised my hands in worship Sunday not because I spent 45 minutes of focused time with the Lord before I came to church, I raised my hands in worship on Sunday because I did not.

I worship because I am a mess.  I worship because I recognize that I am nothing without supernatural intervention.  I worship because I don’t have a right to worship.  I worship because I see all of the very nasty things in my heart and in my mind, and yes, even in my actions.  I worship because I have Someone Who has given me a reason to worship.  I worship because of the grace shown to me in my weakness.

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