there's always monday: worship and sweet city nashville

My sister left for Belmont this Friday. She is now a Tennessee resident. She forewent the deep dish and baseball caps of Chicago for the southern drawls and cowboy boots of sweet-city Nashville. I got the chance to talk to her tonight and I beamed as she gave me the ‘I got there and…” story of her first few days at school. There's something ironic knowing that as I prepared a stovetop dinner for Austin and me, my little sister was venturing into the wonderful world of cafeteria-style dining. How good it is to have her in my life. As often as it may seem that I am a few steps ahead, Katie, in her twenty-one years, lives and operates in such gentle-joyous-wonder, that I often am forced to take notice. And learn. A lot.

One thing I did love about having my sister close by was the randomness of our hangout slots. My most favorite came when Katie received about twelve hours notice of the road trip that she was accompanying me on. We got in the white Honda, dressed, without question in Lululemon, and headed towards St. Louis. We paused only for things worth stopping for: Panera salads, soft-serve ice cream and ravishing sunsets. Once we got there, I became absolutely awed by the lessons I learned from watching my sister. She gives of herself in ways I am afraid to. She has patience with people that I would be guarded with. And she worships her creator in ways I wish I knew how.

Worship for Katie is the natural outpouring of her life. All you have to do is spend a few minutes with her to be convinced of that. She embodies a radiating, abiding joy that comes only from intimately knowing the One whom made her. Worship in her life means more than the songs that start and end a church service. Her worship is the surrendered posture and response to that which truly gives LIFE to her life. It is an acknowledgement of the one behind the wheel. A tipping of the hat to the glue of her well-being. And a fascination with the soul-satisfaction she gains from worshipping this God.

I’ve worshipped several things in my life. When I was little I worshipped my parents because of the ways they provided for me and loved me. When I was a bit older I worshipped my friends’ comments and put all my chips of self worth into the pot of their opinions. When I was a teenager I worshipped being noticed by guys, and their thumbs up/thumbs down approval determined whether my day was a good one. And when I was in college I worshiped my body’s ability to play volleyball and the recognition it brought me. But, wouldn’t you know it, my parents were human, my friends tore me down, guys’ approval was lost in the ways they cared only for themselves, and my body was broken time and time again because of the sport I loved to play.

It wasn’t until these shortcomings of my worship were removed that I was able to see my God, my creator, as the sole being worthy of my worship and incapable of failing me.

We’re all worshipping something. Our abilities, our productivity, others' applause, a form of technology, what we see in the mirror, or maybe a relationship. But one steadfast truth remains. This God. This Creator is the one and only thing that can not, and more importantly will not ever fail. He can’t. It’s not in his character of perfection. So, the next time I’m unusually distraught by the let down of a relationship or circumstance, I will remember who it is that I worship and why he deserves my praise. For unlike this sandy world of false idols, the foundation of my soul is built on the rock. He never, ever, ever fails.

Like EVER.