The Power of Thankfulness in the Midst of Pain
In the twenty-second Psalm, David confessed, My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Far from my deliverance are the words of my groaning. O my God, I cry by day, but You do not answer; and by night, but I have no rest, (Psalm 22:1-2 NASB-U). David acknowledged that all he could do was groan before God, and even that was ineffective. He felt no connection to his Heavenly Father. But then he continued, “Yet You are holy, O You who are enthroned upon the praises of Israel,” (Psalm 22:3 NASB-U). The first four words in that verse may be the most important words in the Bible to a believer in a season of pain–Yet You are holy. In that simple phrase of confession David reminded himself that God was still sovereign and that he was still in control of his circumstances. His moment of worship gave him the eternal perspective he desperately needed.
Worship and thankfulness do that. They remind you of God’s holy nature and his absolute control. They help you see things from God’s point of view. Along with the discipline of Bible reading, Christians in times of spiritual blackout need to immerse themselves in worship settings. Their praise of God will usher them into His holy presence and grant them the hope and perspective they need.
In the early 1990’s, my favorite worship album was called Lion of Judah and was led by a relatively unknown worship leader from San Antonio named Dave Bell. His music was some of the most inspiring and stirring that I had ever heard. Dave’s lyrics spoke to me and led me into God’s presence in a unique and powerful way. For over two years I used Lion of Judah as a worship prompter in my own heart. Gradually, I stopped listening to it as much. I eventually lost track of the tape altogether. It had been in my office, but was lost in our church’s multiple moves and office settings over the years. I tried to buy another copy on several occasions, but the music was out of print and no copies were available on the internet. I gave up trying to find it. But I did miss it. I found that in very special or critical seasons of my life I really longed for some good Dave Bell-led worship. The death of my close friend Carie was one of those times.
Two days after she died, I was standing in the office of our church’s Director of Creative Arts discussing Carie’s funeral plans. As I turned to leave, my eyes caught a cassette on the bookshelf. It was Lion of Judah. I had been in that office and looked at that bookshelf countless times before and never seen that tape, but on that day, there it was. It was like a gift from God.
I devoured it. I kept it playing in my car whenever I was driving. Those old songs helped me express my love for God and my confidence in him at a time when my heart was overwhelmed with pain. The moments of worship I had alone with Christ in my car sustained me through those difficult days and prepared me for what lay ahead–Carie’s funeral. I honestly didn’t know how I could lead it. I couldn’t pray and I certainly couldn’t preach. How could I possibly lead others through their efforts to grieve for Carie? The answer came through the Holy Spirit’s pinpoint prayers for me and through the eternal perspective I gained in worship.
The night before Carie’s funeral, I had to teach at our church’s midweek worship service. As I was leading the church in prayer (or rather, trying to), I saw a vision. It wasn’t a vision like the Book of Revelation is a vision or Joseph’s dreams were a vision; it was more just a mental picture. I saw a massive throng of people, much like a huge crowd at a football game, standing in joy-filled worship before God’s throne. I was aware that there were many people in the crowd, but the only face I could see completely was Carie’s. She was there before God in completely undistracted and joyful worship of God. While I was seeing that picture, I was up on our stage praying before the church. Actually, I know the Holy Spirit was praying through me and for me, because what I said at that point in the prayer was something I’d never said or thought before. I said, “Lord, we’re minus a worshipper tonight . . . ,” and then the tears came. I just broke down sobbing. I couldn’t even finish the prayer. I sat down and cried during most of the worship segment, my pain just spilling out of me.
I was crying out of grief and sadness no doubt, but I was also crying out of the sheer profundity of what I’d seen. Our church had lost a worshipper, but heaven had gained one. For some reason, the weight of that reality just blew me away. Seeing Carie in that crowd humbled me and gave me a completely different perspective. I am convinced that what prepared me for those brief moments of insight was my own private worship of the Lord with the help of an old, worn out worship tape. God softened the soil of my heart and prepared me for what he wanted to show me. He used worship as a means of communication with me when I couldn’t pray, and that’s what had saved me. God met me in worship. Yet You are holy.
The next day, I was able to lead Carie’s funeral with strength, confidence, and even a little joy. It was still difficult, but the edge had been taken off. My simple acts of pinpoint worship when I couldn’t offer pinpoint prayers had set my captive soul free.
From Pray Big.
