What Does My Worship Look Like?

What does my worship look like?

It has to look like more than a mere song and dance.  “I will not offer to God that which costs me nothing.”  It costs me girlish ignorance.  It costs my abdicating a task.  Instead, I find myself getting dusty, sweaty, and climbing scary heights.  I give up service, not because I’m scheduled to do it but because someone else needs it.

God, You want worship from a willing heart, one that counts the cost at the outset but doesn’t meditate on it every step of the way.  So, God, help me give to You something I have that You want.

A heart willing to die for You.

Is that so foreign then?

We say we’re dying for water or chocolate or fill-in-the-blank.  Sometimes we even say we’d die for You.  A death that is entirely too figurative for Your liking.  You’re looking for a heart that feels like it’s dying if I don’t aim to please You.  Maybe that’s the key.  It’s doesn’t matter as much what the target of the arrow is as where I stand when I shoot it.

Do I stand on a plain of thorny discontent?  Worship is pleasing God.  “Grumble, grumble, murmur” almost guarantees missing the target.

“Here is my heart.  It hurt to pull it from my chest, but here it is, God” means He smiles.

He accepts.

He meets.

He exults.

He gives me His heart in turn.

I will not offer to God that which costs me nothing.  Joyfully, I will delight in giving Him my heart.