I strapped the grandbaby into her car seat, struggling around her fluffy pink dress. As soon as I closed the door I started grumbling. “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t stand going to church and getting there right on time. We’re never late for work. We’re not late for other things….”
Two miles down the road: “I just really don’t even want to go. It’s just shameful, I tell ya…”
My wise husband just drives, looking straight ahead without a response.
I was half mad too because I couldn’t even blame him, but I think he was pretty sure if he said anything at all, I would find someway to magnify at least his part in it.
I notice that he’s driving faster than usual and for this I’m content to give him credit – silent credit, of course.
I think I grumbled all the way up to the point when we whipped into the parking lot.
But once inside, I was thrilled to be among family. I took my spot, settled Emma, and as the music started and she held her hands up to me, I picked her up and began to worship.
I wondered what it would’ve looked like anyone who could’ve seen me in the car, then in church. I wondered what it looked like to my husband who knows all the good and the bad.
I wondered what it looked like to Jesus. And then, God showed me what it looked like to Satan.
Those few minutes in the car were not my normal attitude. I’m usually the one annoying my friends and family and telling them to Rejoice! But there I was, a tongue covered in complaint.
But it was a seven minute drive. Seven minutes out of the day, out of the week. Any other time, I would’ve beat myself up with condemnation and been beaten down with hell’s assaults the rest of the day. But there I was, with this two year old on my hip, nearly jumping and leaping, hands in the air – mine and hers, and the sound of joy assaulting hell pouring from my lips.
I told my husband I was sorry on the way home. We laughed – two of us now, bombing hell’s schemes with the sound Satan hates.
This is why we raise our hands. This is why we shout and sing in the midst of chaos. Hell cannot stand in the presence of worship.
I pray I remember this all through the week. I pray you do too.
Have a blessed week, and may you boldly fill the Heavens with the sound of praise all week long.
For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal….2 Corinthians 10:4
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