Worship Is a Choice

Worship is always a choice. At times it’s an easy, straightforward one. When life is peaceful and painless, the choice to respond to God in thanksgiving and praise may not be such a hard one to make. But at other times in our lives, worship becomes a much gutsier decision. Caught up a midst a whirlwind of pain and confusion, the decision to cry out, “Yet I will praise You,” is a costly act of devotion.

In the life of every worshiper there will come times when worship meets with suffering. And these moments shape what kind of worshippers we will become. Yes, praise be to God for times of abundance and plenty in our lives—those carefree days full of peace and laughter. Yet we praise Him also in the wilderness times—those dark and stormy seasons of the soul when we’re left crying out with the psalmist, “How long, O LORD, how long?” (Psalm 6:3).

When trials come, trust must arise. When there’s nothing to rock the boat, our trust in God is rarely tested. Seasons of stillness and calm are wonderful; yet before too long the winds will start to gather, and we’ll find ourselves caught up once again in the storms of life. The question then is this: Can we still find our way to the place of praise?

We may have faith to believe in God as Lord of the calm—but do we also have faith to believe in Him as Lord of the storm? He is Lord of both the hurricane and the gentle breeze. The One who rules and reigns a midst all of the earthquakes of this life—those times when our whole world seems to be shaking and breaking apart.

Note the heart posture of a Nazi concentration-camp prisoner who once scribbled these lines onto the wall of his cell:

I believe in the sun

Even when it is not shining.

I believe in love

Even when I feel it not.

I believe in God

Even when He is silent.

Yes, every act of worship is a choice—a decision to believe and respond to God for who He says He is—no matter how pressing our circumstances. And the greater the pain we’re experiencing, the greater a choice it may be. Sometimes we will walk blindly, unable to understand why we are going through a certain situation—our only comfort being the knowledge that God Himself is not walking blindly, but instead is wisely, kindly and firmly in control. Indeed, as we will begin to see, so often our Father in heaven will take our broken moments and weave them into a powerful tapestry to the glory of His name.