This post is part of a month-long series. You can read the rest here.
A few weeks ago, we turned the sanctuary piano around so that I’m now facing the congregation. Sometimes, that can be a bummer. It’s kind of hard to lose yourself in worshiping immortal God when you’re looking at people who look depressed by their own mortality. I’m just sayin, y’all.
Today, being able to see the congregation was the most amazing, worship-inspiring thing I could have asked for. An elderly woman who’s been struggling with her health for months was wheeled into the sanctuary, and her family parked her right in front of the piano. I asked her daughter if it would be too loud. (I get a little, um, happy sometimes.) “Nope. Mom asked to be put right here.”
Have you worshiped alongside someone who was dying? Have you listened to a 91 year old man preach about what awaits us on the other side of death? Have you whispered prayers during a funeral or sung that it’s well with your soul after you just talked about the times “when sorrows like sea billows roll”?
I’m not eager to leave my children without a mother, nor my husband without a wife. I have plenty to look forward to in the many years that I hope I have remaining here, but tasting a little bit of continuous pain and fatigue has made cherish in a new way all those old songs about heaven. I cannot wait to see Jesus and be totally undistracted in my worship of him.