This blog post was originally posted on my tumblr.
I went to a Bethel concert last month. Hands down, I claimed one of the best spots in the theater. Our group got the front row of the first balcony, which means we were elevated enough to see everything that was going on that night. The first half of the worship set was incredible; I was positioned in the perfect place where I could see the entire band, where I could see the rows of people in front of me worship, and where I could see all the cool lights and effects transform the room into a neat space. It was the ideal evening – and I felt like I could worship all night because of where I stood and all I could see in front of me.
But during intermission, a guy (standing at six feet tall) decided to inch his way toward my spot and stood right in front of me. The second worship set began and I found myself just staring at his back the entire time. And because it was so crowded, I couldn’t move to the left or right to try and find a hole to peek through. I found myself pretty frustrated, and I didn’t want to worship anymore. I actually thought about leaving early since he was blocking me. But of course, as He always does at the right moment, the Lord whispered to me:
“Will you allow what you cannot see hinder what I want you to receive in worship?”
It was in that moment that I felt the Lord challenge me to continue worshiping despite the large man in front of me. Haha. I closed my eyes for the remainder of that evening, and I found that when I chose to stop seeing with my eyes completely (rather than stare at what was blocking me), I actually felt really free to worship. That night, I felt so close to the Father. Not because I could see and experience the cool things Bethel was doing, but because I chose to worship even when I could not see.
I felt like my decision to stand there and worship that evening, even when I didn’t like where I was standing and especially when I could not see, was symbolic of the season that God was going to take me through. The morning after the concert, my grandma passed away, which would be the first of many events to follow that would naturally uproot fear and anxiety if I were to rely on what I could see.
To be honest, there are a lot of things this season where I just can’t see what God is doing. And most days, I wish I could just remove the large roadblock in front of me. But I refuse to allow what I cannot see hinder my heart to worship, and my experience of it. Because whether I’m positioned in the best seasons of life or the hardest, it doesn’t change the fact that the Lord is still so worthy of my worship – and I really do believe there’s so much He wants for me to receive in all of it.