Category: etc.

So if you read my last post, you’d know that today I’m happy and relieved that George W. Bush has won re-election. I even breathed a “Thank you, God” prayer once it was officially over. Then I caught myself. Am I just thankful that “my guy” won? (Well, I AM thankful.) But would I have been thankful had “not my guy” won? Hmmm … (Knowing me, well — I’m not gonna answer that question!) I know God is sovereign. He’s in control of all things, including elections. My thankfulness in Him, my love for Him, shouldn’t be circumstantial or conditional, but oh, how often it is!

I remember many times as a young girl pining breathlessly away for some poor, random boy. He was always, of course, “sooooo cute” and we were always, of course, going to be “together 4ever.” (How did I know that? Because, silly, it was only written ALL over my notebook — along with his name … or my name with his LAST name … or our names TOGETHER.) It was only a matter of time before this hapless boy — who knew NOTHING of my undying love (or me, for that matter) — would drop to his knees and make me his. My fevered, foolish brain was overcome with having found eternal bliss — apparently, at the ripe old age of 11. But the true test of this idiotic love was the daisy game. If I grabbed the nearest daisy, played the petals just right, and “he loved me,” well, girl, call the caterer and order the invitations.

I can safely say it’s been many (okay, several) years since I last “played the daisies,” gambling my “ENTIRE LIFE’S HAPPINESS, MOTHER!” on the pluck of a petal. Thinking of that, I wince at the irredeemable dope I was and consider how lucky I am to have outgrown all that frivolousness. Right? Because then I catch myself. Even now, how often do I “play the daisies” with my love for the Lord? How often have I allowed circumstances to dictate whether I “love Him” or “love Him not”? Worse still, how often have I accused the Lord of playing the daisies with His love for me? Circumstances good? Well, clearly, “He loves me.” Circumstances bad? Well, clearly, “He loves me not.” I need to grow more deeply, more fully, into the knowledge that God is NEVER fickle, but I often am; that God is NEVER faithless, but I often am.

Lord, I don’t want a heart that “plays the daisies.”

Give me a heart that’s more constant.

Give me a heart that’s more true.

(ed.: This is the first post from my first blog called, yes, “Worship Naked.” Please remain calm.)

Uhh … yeah… about that.

Some of you might be here because the word “worship” caught your eye. Some of you might be here because the word “naked” caught your eye — and having looked around and seen nothing (or no one) naked, you’re now feeling a tad ripped off. Well, stick around — or how else will you discover that you’re not a tad ripped off, you’re FULLY ripped off, in one sense only.

So … my heart’s desire with this weblog is to talk about life in Jesus Christ. (And perhaps I just heard screaming and the pounding of feet as the naked people have officially fled.)

Look, I freely admit that I’m a born-again Christian. I’m also a phony, a poser, a hypocrite — in biblical terms, a Pharisee. And I’m tired of it. One day, I was reading the story in 2 Samuel 6 and was struck by the verse that’s become the tag line for this page: “David danced before the Lord with all his might.” This guy was the king of Israel . In a moment of sheer joy and celebration, he unashamedly, unabashedly DANCED before the Lord and basically the whole darn town. He worshiped naked.

Now he WAS dressed rather skimpily for a king, but the idea of “worship naked” isn’t about naked bodies. It’s about naked hearts. It’s about being stripped bare. Emotionally. Spiritually. Stripped of personal mythologies, pretenses, facades and loving God with ALL. To worship naked is to wholeheartedly believe, not just halfheartedly behave. To worship naked is to be the beggar at the door amazed, grateful, changed when the Master takes you in and makes you His child. So no, we won’t be out in the woods cavorting naked; we’ll be on our knees crying, “Search me, O God.”

I realize this is a pebble dropped in the ocean, but I’ll still stand on the shore and say, “Hey, who wants to come?” You never know.