Worship, Interrupted

We've been looking for a church lately, and the past two weeks have attended one that I think we'll probably set up camp in. It's definitely not the church I would have picked if I was the only one to please, but for now, it seems to meet all of the immediate church related needs of our little family. The style is one that OS is comfortable with, the people are incredibly warm and friendly, the average age in the congregation is well under 75, and there are a lot of kids running around that look every bit as sweet and sour as E. All in all...I think we hit a home freakin' run! AND...the church is only a couple of years old...so it meets in a local elementary school...in the gymacafetorium.


So Sunday, when the words to a worship song that I knew popped up on the overhead projector, I allowed myself a moment to worship...something I don't think I've wholeheartedly done in ages. I closed my eyes, tilted my head up toward God, and allowed myself a moment to briefly be carried away in the thick harmonies of the congregation. And very quickly I remembered why I love worship. For a split second, it was just me and God in that room staring one another in the face. I was right there in the moment with Him...and He was right there in the moment with me. We were on the same page....breathing the same air...and once again He was a very real presence, one that I didn't have to try my hardest to have faith in because I just know it to be true....this time, I could FEEL it. I began to sink deeper into this warm hollow with God...just me and him....and


tap, tap tap....


Huh? Was someone tapping me on the shoulder....no, surely not. I'm just imagining things. Ok...back to the warm hollow....


TAP, TAP, TAP...


I turned around to see the lady in the row behind me tapping me on my right shoulder. "Excuse me," she said. "I have to holler at my daughter." She then proceeded to lean forward...right into the midst of my warm hollow....and hissed with sheer venom in the direction of the red headed tweenager in the row in front of me, "DELIA, STAND UP!" and she made an "up" motion with her arm that would have sliced through my face had I not done a bouncy little hop to the side.


And just like that my warm little hollow dissipated into the far corners of the gymacafetorium.

The rest of the congregation went on singing...and for a few seconds I flipped the coin of what had just happened in my mind. Did someone really just interrupt my worship to snarl at her daughter that she should be standing up to worship? Really? And then it struck me as funny, so I began to laugh. And I laughed. The kind of laugh where you can't let yourself make any noise, so your shoulders twitch and you appear to be a Touret's patient. And I laughed, and laughed. So much for the warm hollow of worship.

But I felt light hearted just the same. Maybe I needed to be reminded that worshipping God isn't always a warm hollow. Sometimes it's shoulder twitching laughter. Maybe I just needed a good hard laugh.

And maybe...just maybe, God knew that before I did.