Open My Eyes

Why do we raise our hands in worship? Or more accurately why do I raise my hands in worship - and almost only when I'm alone? I'm not embarrassed to do so publicly, it just seems too intimate most of the time for me to do in the presence of others. Either way, it boils down to the why at the moment. It never occured to me to ask, but I feel tonight as if it is because I am reaching. Trying to touch and be touched. Even just my fingertips. A physical whisper. A declaration of more than praise, but of redemption. Oh how I long to be closer, so much closer.

I was reminded of a scripture this weekend that I really want to share. It changed me, as completely as if I had changed into a different color. Lamentations 3...

54 the waters closed over my head,
and I thought I was about to be cut off.

55 I called on your name, O LORD,
from the depths of the pit.

56 You heard my plea: "Do not close your ears
to my cry for relief."

57 You came near when I called you,
and you said, "Do not fear."

58 O Lord, you took up my case;
you redeemed my life.

Everything lately has just brought me to my knees. Always my circumstances. Not the lost or broken. Not the poor or the hopeless. Me. My sight was limited to the grand realm of nothing but me.

I am so ashamed. But I am not going to dwell on that. He took up my case and He redeemed my life. I will no longer repay that mercy by seeing only me. I will no longer talk myself seven ways from Sunday, but instead live as I am loved. Fully, deeply, and without fear.

Fear. It has kept me in its grip far more than any other, for as long as I can remember. Fear of disappointing. Fear of failure. Fear of being alone. Fear of unrealized dreams. Fear of a future without life. Ironically enough, it is this fear that has prevented me from truly living until now. I hate that I have wasted so much time, but it is in my repentence that God will return my wasted years. It is through the surrender of my eyes that God is giving me sight. I can't sit here and claim I am truly fearless and all is well. This journey for me is just beginning. Baby steps that are both beautiful and frustrating at the same time. But soon I will be running. Relentlessly pursuing the God who conquered me.