And they were. Absolutely ridiculous.
I couldn't help but stare at them. Everyone else around the bonfire was singing worship tunes and praying -- you know, being all spiritual and what-not. A few were laughing and joking around, but all I did was look up; and I was amazed.
And isn't that just as important sometimes? To just be. And to let Him be. Sometimes I feel like we try so hard to coerce God into coming down to us by attempting to create or force an emotional, spiritual experience - when in reality, He's already here. He's in us. And He's all around. All the time.
Lately my motto for worshiping God has been simple:
Just go with it.
If being flabberghasted (yeah ---I just said "flabberghasted") over the fact that He spoke each and every star into existence AND He gave each and every one a name, if that makes someone recognize His greatness, then that's exactly the kind of worship they should be participating in.
Please don't get me wrong-- for someone else, it could have been the prayers, the worship songs, or even the kiddin'-around-ness. And I think that is what encourages me the most about worship: that even when we've failed at showing His glory, something else has succeeded. There is too much to Him; too much to feel bad about the fact that something went horribly wrong with the sound for my mic, guitar, and monitors at Staff Fellowship tonight. I mean, we're talkin' cover-your-ears-and-shudder material. I would say that I was flabberghasted at the awfulness, but I've already used that word already.
Ya'll, what I'm getting at is simply that we can, and should, worship God in practically everything we choose to see, hear, read, say or do - and tonight, for me: His glory wasn't in the music -- it was in the stars. And earlier today, it was in a serving of french-fries.
So like I said: practically everything.
"For everything comes from him and exists by his power and is intended for his glory. All glory to him forever! Amen."