Here I am, Not to Worship

"And would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
You imagine me to be?
Would your arms be open
Or would you run away?
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay?"-- Casting Crowns, 'Stained Glass Masquerade'



One of the bad things about being at a Christian university is that you begin to see how messed up you really are.

Now people may judge me for this, but I've been to church probably 3 dozen times in the past 13 years. My family just doesn't do church. Until I was about 15 we read the Bible together every day, but eventually we stopped doing that. So my church experience is very, very limited. I've been content with that, and I didn't know why.

So last week at orientation we had chapel, and in that meeting I began to notice something about myself that has been confirmed time after time, in chapel twice and in the church I went to today. It explains why I've been content to be an unchurched Christian all these years. And that is, I'm almost ashamed to admit--

I'm afraid to worship.

Afraid. To worship.

Worship chips at my barriers. I've got these walls inside, blocking my heart in and keeping all the pain and the tears inside where nobody will ever see. Once in awhile, a weak point in the wall allows something to leak out, like in this post, but in minutes I'm right there with the cement, patching up the crack. But once I step foot into a worship service, it's like God takes a pick and starts hammering at my wall, taking chunks away, trying to reach me but at the same time exposing my hurt. So I draw back. I want to let him in... oh, how I want to let him in. But I've got people around me. I can't curl up on the floor and sob and sob, like I want to. I can't even let a tear out, because then they'll see how broken I am. So I slap on another coat of cement and think about anything and everything but how much He loves me, because if I think about it too much my walls will shatter. And I don't know that even I want to see what's inside there.