I have to admit, I am a fan. A really BIG fan. An American Idol fan. Every Wednesday and Thursday night for the past several weeks I am glued to my flat screen TV. I have clicked on my remote to my saved programs to indulge in some pretty amazing talent on stage this season. I am hooked. In the past I have secretly scorned others for wasting time watching these kinds of reality shows, but I have to admit I have fallen into that category of time wasters. But is it really a waste of time to appreciate the gift of music? I love music!
Each week as I have settled in, I find myself moved. Not by all the staging and effects, but by the simple passion of each person who loves expressing their gift in song. As I listen, I have to turn up the volume. I like it loud, I like to experience it and feel it vibrating in my soul. I watch as a few of my favorite singers give it everything they have, singing louder and with greater energy as each week moves ahead to the grand finale.
There is someone else in our family who likes loud, who actually tells me, “Let’s sing louder, Grandma.” Connor and I were sitting on his bedroom floor last week before bedtime. He wanted to sing “lots of worship songs.” I think he was stalling, but it was okay I fell for it. We sang through a few familiar ones and into the second or third song, he said, “Let’s sing louder Grandma.” It made me smile inside. So we sang as loud as we could sitting cross legged on his bedroom floor watching each other sing. At that moment, it dawned on me. This is what worship is all about. It’s not about the presentation of the song, but it’s about the passion behind the words I am singing.
There is something about listening to a two-half year old praising Jesus. It makes me cry because of the simplicity of his heartfelt desire to share his feelilngs through music. It was a moment for me, a sacred God-moment in my busy life. It was better than watching Joshua, Jessica, or Philip sing last week. Connor wasn’t on a stage, he was in his room, wearing his PJ’s hanging out. He was ending his day lifting his voice in worship. That is passion with a capital “P.” I experienced in that moment, my soul vibrating with love for him, for my God AND to want to “sing louder!”