"Take the hand of the person next to you and let's pray." It was a baby dedication at church, but with those words, the dam broke. The whisperings I couldn't identify and fears I fought to validate by acknowledgement, rushed unbridled through the canyons of my heart. And again, tears.
I'm part of our church worship team. Often as I sit and look out at my church family and feel thankful for people who worship unashamed, empathy for families who have suffered loss, encouragement from those who are living above their trials through the strength of God. Last Sunday, I felt naked.
The worship set started. We took our places and began the first chorus. I tried to push my torment down, but my voice soon faltered. Strength evaporated and by the third chorus, my voice fell silent. I prayed. God, this is all I can do right now. I'm here, before You. This is all I have for You today.
When a broken hallelujah all you have,
that is all God wants.
