{10 Days of Proverbs 31} Worship, not Worry

“She is clothed with strength and dignity…” Proverbs 31:25(a)

I wake up early this morning, worried about everything I’ve got to get done in the next month. On top of a huge To Do list, I’m battling a cold that’s promising to get worse before it gets better.

Then I remember: “You didn’t get up to worry; you got up to worship!”

Oh yeah. I grab my Bible, iPod, and journal. I settle in on the couch.

Now what?

Instantly, I’m ashamed for asking. How can I not know what to do next? I was raised in a Christian home, attended church weekly, spent 16 years attending Christian schools, and have taught for two decades in Christian schools.

Yet I am wondering: Exactly what is worship?

I can identify worship when I see it happening elsewhere: The praise and worship service. Worship through prayer. The entire congregation standing in worship.

But what is worship right now? Here in my quiet living room? As I sit alone?

Oh, I could go all English-teachery and pull out Webster:

wor-ship.
noun
1. reverent honor and homage paid to god or a sacred personage.
2. formal or ceremonious rendering of such honor and homage.
3. adoring reverence or regard;
verb
1. to render religious reverence and homage, as to a deity.
2. to attend services of divine worship.
3. to feel an adoring reverence or regard.

I’m not feeling much other than discomfort and foolishness right about now. I’m starting to realize how much of a “social worshipper” I am. I love being part of a worshiping group — especially at a women’s retreat — our individual voices blended (and mine well masked!) in song.

Synergy and collaboration are my two favorite words; I love doing things together. I truly hate doing things alone. Sure, I could start singing a favorite praise song, but I loathe my voice. It’s weak. Off-key. Powerless. It doesn’t feel like real worship unless there’s serious volume, harmony, talent.

I could raise one or both hands, but how weird is that? It’s taken me years to shake off my your-hands-belong-at-your-sides conservative upbringing. For the longest time, I’d only allow one brave hand to tentatively raise while the other remained obediently plastered to my side. Now, I love throwing myself into worship with both hands raised fully in praise. But it only feels “right” in a group with others who are doing the same. Raise one or both hands, right here? right now? alone?

(I am so not even touching “dancing before the Lord”!)

But I know that I, of all people, need physical acts of worship. I may be twenty years past the death-trap of Ed (eating disorder), but I can still snap instantly into old habits of disconnecting from my body and retreating into my head, especially when I’m feeling weak or worried.

So, I look up the root words of “worship.” (Yes, I know I’m stalling. Anything to stay in the comfort zone of my brain!) Interestingly enough, it’s made up of the words “worth” and “-ship.” The “-ship” part simply means “state of being.” And a search for “Worth” brings up merit. excellence. importance. value.

Worship demonstrates what I value.

Oh, I’ll tell you with my words that I don’t value worrying! But the truth shows up in my actions. I woke up early because I’m so worried about everything I’ve got to get done. And now I’ve spent the last thirty minutes worrying about worship!

From a time and energy investment perspective, worry is the most valuable thing in my life. My “almighty” To Do list is my “god,” and worry is my ritual for worshiping it.

I’m appalled. I can’t say I’m shocked; I’ve only re-discovered how much of an achievement-focused Choleric zealot I really am a few hundred times in my life. But I’ve not seen it in this light.

Doing is my “god,” and worry is my worship.

This is an “ah-HA!” of the most disturbing kind.

I initially thought “Worship, not Worry” was nothing more than a cute alliterative catch phrase. Now I realize it’s a baby step in a journey. Yes, I’m appalled. But I’m also in awe. Awed that the One of ultimate value follows me wherever my rationalizing mind wanders. Awed that He values me — even when I’m busy worshipping another “god” — enough to pursue and woo me.

I want my “worth-ship” to come down not to what I value but Who values me. And this is key to becoming a woman who is “clothed with strength and dignity”, for the origin of the word “dignity” is none other than worth.

Dignity and worship go hand-in-hand.

(Which makes so much sense. When am I the least dignified? When I am the most worried!)

I still don’t know the “right” answer to my question: Exactly what is worship?

But I feel a song coming on. And I think that rather than worrying about how I’ll sound, I’ll simply worship.

I’d suggest you plug your ears, but you’re not here–whew!

Anyhow, this isn’t about you.
It isn’t even about me.
This is about worship
and dignity.

It’s about the One
who provides Refuge
and Strength
to you and to me.