Yesterday was one of those worship sets where I felt like two left feet in a room full of dancers.
I couldn't keep tempo to save my life, then forgot the beginning to two of the song, and the list goes on. Then, after service, when I was feeling about as talented and qualified as a cockroach, someone came up to me and enthusiastically said worship was awesome. (And they aren't one to blow smoke.)
I stared for a moment and then said thanks, thinking that if I just take it at face value, it would be better than swallowing the hidden joke that it certainly must be. And then I realized that they were serious.
Thanks for the reminder. So glad this is not about me. So glad that worship is not a graded performance where critics count every measure and mark off points with a red pen. So glad it's more than the music and the words. I'm so glad that my inadequacies are beautiful inside your adequacy.