Sacrifice of Praise

Drowning. Pulled. Torn. Drained. Empty. Exhausted. These are the kinds of words that have frequently described how I've felt for the last few months. And while the last couple of weeks have seen marked improvement, Sunday mornings have been a bigger than normal challenge. Sunday morning worship has been a foundational part of my life since before I can remember. And much of the time, I was eager to meet with God and His people. I enjoyed (and still enjoy) singing praises to the Lord. I loved (and still love) communing with the Lord in prayer. I listened attentively (much of the time) to the preaching of the Word. And I was refreshed. But these last couple of Sundays, just as I feel that I'm about to get REALLY engaged in the worship service, one of my children begins to pull at me. They need to go to the bathroom. They forgot a bulletin. They don't want brother/sister touching them. What does that word mean? Why are you holding your hands like that? And I fall apart. You know when glass shatters and the shards scatter from one end of the room to the other? That's me, because I so DESPERATELY want to be refreshed, but I feel like I'm missing it.

To the choirmaster. A Maskil of the Sons of Korah. As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?
Psalms 42:1-2

As I was pondering my fall apart earlier, I was reminded of this verse:

Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name.
Hebrews 13:15

I used to hear the phrase "sacrifice of praise" and wonder what that was. I know that it is never really EASY to worship the Lord properly this side of glory, but when you acknowledge that the goodness in your life is from the Lord, and it feels like there is a lot of goodness, it's pretty easy to praise. On the other hand, when you feel like you're drowning... or being pulled in too many directions... or exhausted, it becomes very difficult to acknowledge His name.

Then I was reminded of the widow who offered her two mites. There is something precious to God about us offering Him our best, like Abel. But there is also something precious to God about us offering Him the very last, bottom of the barrel, I'll-die-if-I-give-this-up. And that encouraged me for today. And for tomorrow. And hopefully for next Sunday, as I shepherd my Crew through another Sunday morning worship...

A Psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah. O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food, and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips, when I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.
Psalms 63:1-8