I’ve always grown up in a house where singing was common. There would be constant dance parties in the kitchen while cooking dinners using the wooden spoons as microphones. Every car ride would be a chance to attend a free concert showcasing every voice in the Rice family. And passing through my house I would always hear my younger brother singing his heart out to some love ballad in the shower. This atmosphere coupled with my mom’s walk with the Lord meant that worship was also something The Rice family embraced with open arms. Most times I could hear the worship music being blared throughout the whole house on a speaker before I even walked in the driveway. Growing up that mindset never actually transitioned into my daily life though. I could worship and sing as loud as I wanted in the comfort of my home but the moment I stepped into the outside world, or even my church, worship became something completely different. It was something that was steeped with pressure, there was all of a sudden a different weight to it that wasn’t there before.
I have a memory of one of my first churches I went to growing up. They had the set aside time of worship before the message, and I just remember feeling a spirit of routine and comparison the entire time we worshipped. Everyone’s eyes were on the screen and on the words but none were felt with any intimacy. No one worshipped with the freedom of what fit them individually. Instead, they moved and sang and acted in a way that mirrored everyone next to them. No one could be labeled as “different” or “strange.” There was little to no true intimacy or relationship to the father.
Flash forward a few years: I am nearing the end of my middle school career and I visit a new church, and stepping into their worship time was like visiting another galaxy in the universe. Not a single person was looking at the other. Every one was meeting with God intimately. They were worshipping. There wasn’t a set two rows up front for the “different” people. Instead there was a freedom to meet with the Father in whatever way you see fit. There were people all over the room dancing, kneeling, and raising their hands in adoration of the King of Kings. This began the journey of me trying to figure out how to Worship God in a at that worked for me. I blocked out the mindset that I would look weird or different and just shut my eyes and imagined it was only God and I together. Slowly but surely it became based on relationship and wanting, not the action or routine.
I thought I had it down pat until the Race, and now everything I thought I knew about worship has been thrown for a whirlwind and turned totally upside down.
What I thought was true worship was actually a worship where I was more terrified of singing the wrong note or starting on the wrong key than actually praising my Father. It was a worship based on works and performance, on ability rather than communing with God.
But that is what I know now, after almost five months of struggling along that journey of realization. So let’s back up and I’ll add a lil context to it all shall we?
First off, let’s start with what the actual definition of worship is.
According to Merriam Webster, “Worship” is a verb that means 1) to honor or show reverence for a divine being or supernatural power. 2) to regard with great or extravagant respect, honor, or devotion.
This alone adds something new to what I had previously considered to be worship. No where in here does it say “perfect pitch” or “the ability to do a bunch of runs while singing in a unique, never heard before, raspy voice.”
What I didn’t know before starting the Race was that I would soon see what it looks like to approach the Father with absolute and complete reverence at all times, not just during the music set.
The best way to describe entering the World Race and worshipping with 35 other 18-21 year olds is to compare it to that church I visited in middle school. The one that felt like a whole different galaxy? Yeah, that is what it is like to worship alongside everyone here. 35 other people, and not just people but peers, who are all on different journeys with the Lord. But however different their journeys are, all are meeting in the same space with nothing but awe in their voice for Him.
At Samaritan’s Purse in Louisiana our host church planned a worship night with two other churches in the city. It was a mixture of Spanish and English songs, and people from all across the city joined in. I was nervous to really worship, I was worried that everyone there would have their eyes on me and would see me stumble over the Spanish words I didn’t know. By the end of the night every person was holding their neighbors hand and was dancing across the church sanctuary to a Spanish worship song. The Holy Spirit was tangible.
In Rio Grande Costa Rica we visited a church. The best way I can describe the church is a building with no walls. There were wooden beams with a material almost like chicken wire wrapped around them to make the building. Inside were mismatched lawn chairs for seating, house plants put around the chairs for decoration, and poster board was cut up to write out the name of the church. Worship consisted of one man on an office rolling chair with an electric guitar. And although the words were foreign to me, one look at the singer revealed that he had entered the throne room. He wasn’t even with us anymore. He was only singing to God.
Another church in Puerto Viejo had worship through YouTube karaoke videos with one woman singing into the microphone to the songs each Sunday. It was so different and so fun. Lots of clapping and dancing and genuine praise being lifted up in the room.
In Puerto Viejo Costa Rica I was pulled aside with a couple other squad mates and was asked to be a worship coordinator for Gap I. This basically means we would organize when and where our squad would have worship, sing and play instruments, and empower others on the squad to step in and get involved with worship as well. I was both honored and terrified. How in the world was I supposed to empower others to step into true worship when it was still a battle for me to get out of my own head when worshipping? The Lord then revealed to me that the battle actually wasn’t a part of my worship anymore, that He had already been working in my heart long before I was asked to join the worship coordinators. And within that He was stirring up a new passion within me. A passion to create and foster a space that wasn’t about the actual song or voice, but a space that was focused on mindset and heart posture. A space where it was only adoration and praise to God in whatever way that looks like. Whether that looks like kneeling in prayer, dancing with joy, or writing and painting to God. All are worship if all are done with reverent awe and true love lifted up to The Father. And no matter what, God hears our voices and our hearts and smiles. He is a Father who takes such pride in us, and is truly joyous to converse with us. There will never be a day where he hears us and says “actually go learn how to sing the right note and then try again” or “I’m going to need a full band in order for this to be counted as worship.” That is not the heart or the character of our loving and good God.
This is a heart posture that was foreign to me before the Race. And it is something that has only been revealed to me through true intimacy and relationship with The Father. Through knowing His heart and all He has done and will continue to do.
This week at our ministry in Guatemala, my team and I were sitting for a meal with our hosts when one of the woman pointed at me across the table and asked in Spanish if I sang. I explained that I enjoyed singing and they told me to sing something right then. Now, this is the exact moment I would have panicked 5 months ago. My mind would have been battered with anxious thoughts. “I havent practiced” or “what if I mess up.” Instead, I got nervous but decided to just worship God regardless. Around the table our group sang a worship song while our hosts listened, not understanding the English words but knowing that worship is worship. In their words, “God knows.” We we’re all just praising, knowing that the performance wasn’t for any of us in the room but for something much much greater.
God is so so good, and so faithful, and so much more that anything I could ever be put into words. I have absolutely nothing to offer that is worthy of what He has done for. I have nothing, so why would I not give Him everything I have? How could I not walk in “extravagant respect” and wonder in whatever way that looks like? Singing or heart posture or daily actions. Worship is in everything now, which is a true testament to the work God has been doing in me the past 5 months. Let’s see what else He’s planning on turning upside down and inside out.
