Just a few short years ago, I was one of the normal people. You know...the ones sitting with dignity and reverence each Sunday trying hard not to stare at the people brave enough to raise their hands during worship. I held back tears as I watched those that were obviously lost in the moment and apparently “feeling” their worship. I wondered why I couldn’t muster up the emotion, the desire, the boldness to experience worship in the same way. I don’t like to stand out in a crowd…as many of my friends would tell you. I’ve always chosen the safe fashions, been reluctant to ask questions in a crowd and feared being perceived as different in a weird way. And yet, I found myself strangely drawn to the very people who stood out in these worship services. I wondered what was different for them? Some said that it was a personality thing…they were also the ones more apt to be enthusiastic at a sporting event. While I don’t like to stand out, I cannot deny my emotions when watching one of my children at a sporting event or at a concert. My love and admiration for them takes over and it feels as if it would be impossible for me to sit quietly and observe. I usually experience an almost out-of-body experience. I know I’m hollering and laughing and being much more animated than usual. It’s just that I don’t care because my love for my kids overrides my desire to appear dignified.
And, deep down, I knew why I was inhibited in worship. My love and admiration for my Savior wasn’t strong enough to override my desire to be dignified…especially in a large crowd of other “dignified” Christians. I feared what they would think of me. God knew. As I asked Him to help me step out of my lukewarm spiritual walk, my circumstances started to change. My church comfort was stripped slowly, but completely over the next two years. Eventually, I started to feel that I needed Him desperately…in fact, He is all I knew for sure. Slowly, I felt the restraints loosen on my arms and the inhibitions begin to dissolve…until one Sunday, in my brokenness and pain, I heard the same worship songs I’d heard a hundred times before, but I couldn’t control my reaction. No longer worried about what others thought of me, my love for the One who continues to save me overrode my desire to appear dignified. And just like that, I lost my dignity…
“I will dance
I will sing
To be mad
For my King
Nothing Lord
Is hindering
This passion in my soul
And I'll become
Even more undignified than this
Some may say
It's foolishness
But I'll become
Even more undignified than this
Leave my pride
By my side
And I'll become
Even more undignified than this”
David Crowder Band (Undignified)