Saturday, February 24, 2007

On Mr. John the Meyer's thoughts on Worship

Even though I'm away from Summitview, I still like to get teachings off the website from time to time. Since I work some weekends, I don't get to attend church every Sunday, so getting the extra teachings help tremendously with maintaining / growing my walk in Christ (Thank You God!)

So, anyway, today I listened to John Meyer's talk on Worship. He spoke a lot about the Christian Music industry. I thought about it, and I think about how I (and others) utilize Christian music. Most of the time, we listen to it for background noise that is encouraging. That is, I listened to it while doing homework, and I listen to it on Sundays as kind of a musical Sabbath – where that is the only kind of music I voluntarily listen to. But, what is the difference when I am actually worshiping? That is, connecting to God using music as a medium through which there is mutual communication?

I'd like to think of it as a catalyst where God and I are both reacting with each other through that medium. When this happens, my thoughts are on God alone, and not on the music. When my focus is on the music, I am trying to sing along, I am going wild and crazy to impress people. Sometimes, I like to do the opposite of the crowd at The Rock worship nights: I am silent, my eyes are closed, no lights flashing, no concentrating on singing right. And then I hear God. I feel God, and I allow my heart tobe laid bare toward Him. And then I start to pray. Spirit filled prayers for my friends, His kingdom, praises for His blessings, His creation, petition for my needs, etc.

Worship comes to me when everything could be stripped away except for my soul and God. Worship came many times sitting in the science lecture halls, where I literally praised the works of His hands that were right in front of me. The molecule He spoke and shaped into existence was the tug at my heart for it to come to its Maker. Worship came when I knelt down on the floor in my bedroom listening to a Christian Radio song two days after my uncle died. I cried and I cried, but it was the same: my soul laid bare to God – yes, in praise because He was my stronghold and He would pull me through, and in prayer – of grief of which there are really no tangible words to pray, only groanings of the soul which God understands. And worship comes to me during the happiest times - upon graduation or acceptance into graduate school, or even more joyfully, when I realized a friend was now a sister in Christ, yes, worship came as well when in my heart, I danced with joy with God and mye heart cheered and laughed alonside His Spirit. Music can indeed facilitate this, but this is the essence and goal of worship.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

The Threshold

fromMy other blog

Today I had to take a patient from the front entrance of the hospital to the Emergency Department (ED). As I was talking to the patient just to find out how she was feeling and everything, I passed a large room (one of like 4) that is labeled "Resuscitation Room." They can hold two patients and they are huge rooms. Patients only go in there if they are in really bad shape - need lots of medications and help breathing and everything. One of them was occupied. I heard the sounds of a heart monitor. But it wasn't the normal small beeps that indicate that the patient's heart was beating. The machine was literally screaming - that little beep turned into one long blaring beep. That meant that the patient's heart was stopped. I knew that was what it was, but at the time, I was focused on the patient I was bringing in.

After dropping her off, I passed the Resuscitation Room again. This time it was quiet. When the patient was there, the curtain was drawn. But this time, there was a space where a stretcher had once stood and around it lay wrappings from syringes and other equipment. The room was still, but yet, I knew that a few moments ago, it was occupied and probably full of people trying to get this patient's heart started.

But where was the patient?
Was he or she in another part of the ED?
Or had he or she died?
Right there? In that room? Right by where I was walking with my patient?

Chills just hit me along with just this feeling of how odd it was that I was on the threshold of a room where someone may well have passed away. And they too were on the threshold. When the machine was blaring instead of rhythmically beating - when their heart was stopped instead of normally working, that patient was on the threshold between life and death. Medication and other techniques could've brought him or her back, but God had His final say ultimately.

I left the ED and my dispatcher said that I didn't need to do any more transports for the moment. So, I went to an isolated corner by our office and knelt to pray. For the patient whereever he or she was, and for the family wherever they were. And for myself, that God would calm me down so I could finish my shift. I cried right there - just me and Him. God - the Creator of all, may have taken demanded the life from one person, but yet at the next moment, comforted one of His children.

"....The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." Job 1:21

Friday, February 02, 2007


I have had my job at the hospital for 6 months and have been out of college for nearly 9. Something I thought of for the past week is how far I've come in this time and what has changed. One thing I have had to come to grips with is that I am no longer part of the church in Ft. Collins. Though that is obvious in some respects, I've been trying to fit in and keep in touch like I was still part of my small close-knit student group. I never truly 'left' with a ceremony like the laying of hands like several other seniors, but it really wasn't all that necessary since all I was doing was moving to my home city before pursueing graduate school. But realizing that I wasn't part of the inner circle was hard to come to grips with.

But what hasn't changed is that I am connected to these people as one who has watched them grow in their faith and one who has fellowshipped with them in trials and rejoicing. They will always be in my prayers and it will be a blessing if we ever meet again (God willing.) The unity in Christ truly means that saying goodbye doesn't mean saying goodbye forever. It just means this: that I was glad to be in their walk with Christ and glad they were in mine, and now God is calling us our seperate ways.

To my friends, wherever they may be when they read this, watching you grow and change in the hand of God was truly amazing. I pray that you all will stay strong in the faith. Until we finish running the race, run hard and run rejoicing.