Abandon me...

Name:
Location: Pinedale, Wyoming, United States

Hey there, It's Lilly, Stoney's oldest. It's been a long time since my dad posted about books he's read, so I thought I'd take over. I am a reader. Not just a little bit, but a whole lot. I love reading. I can sit and read ALL day. It's not crazy for me to read several books a day, especially my favorites. So keep posted and read what I have to say about the written word, you won't be disappointed.

Monday, March 17, 2008

And then we grew up...

I was reading 'Praise Habit' by David Crowder for the second time and came across something interesting. So here I am, speaking on some thoughts that came after reading.

I'm pretty sure everyone can picture this:
a small child entering the room. in his hand is a toy. at first it doesn't look too exciting. at least it's nothing to note as 'special.' But then the child speaks. with all the excitement in his eyes and voice, he proclaims loadly how great his precious toy is. his arms are flailing about and he dances, jumping and singing ensue. toy after beautiful toy he speaks of the joy they bring. he wants you to try. forcing it into your lap he proclaims his wants for you to feel the joy that it brings him.



See. Praise is natural. It is built in us. Engraved deeply. In our core. It's who we are. What we were made for. So natural to us that we praise with such pride in the beginning. But then we grow up. At one point we hold up our beautiful toy and the crowd tells us it's ugly. Beaten and torn. It probably only takes once for this to happen... but in the end we lose the confidence we once had. The irratic dance. The uncontrollable song. All of it... has ended. With one critique, the joy is gone and the toy is placed on a shelf, or in the closet... somewhere safe.

I think that's the way it is with God. At first we proclaim Him to the world. With all honesty and sincerity we scream for others to try Him. We dance, we flail about only to be told that He's torn and broken. He's not that attractive anymore. And it probably only takes once for this to happen... but in the end, we've lost the joy we had. All of it... is gone. And we decide to place Him in the Sunday School room, on the nightstand, in the closet... somewhere safe.

Where'd it go? Where is my natural desire to praise Him. To show the world what joy He brings? The love he posesses? Where's my song? The dance? Is it still there?

It's been beaten out of me. time and time again i'm bashed on the head with the fact that i'm different for my joy. i'm neive. childish.

Where's my love for the Author of Love?

I have a feeling that it's still there. The only problem is now I have to work for it. I have to take off the layers of protection I've placed around my pride and take the toy off the shelf, out of the closet for all to see. It's old and torn. Some of the pieces are missing and the dust has settled on top. But the more I praise the One I Love, the more my praise becomes natural. Every part of my being cries out to the One and Only True God. My Beautiful One. And suddenly, when i discard the criticisms of many...as foolish and misguided, I fall in love again.

I feel my legs start to move.
My arms are waving.
My vocal chords errupt with praise.

I feel Him in my bones.

We're meant to praise Him. He created us for it. Why do we fight the thing that fits us best? We will search and search for the answer as to why we are here... yet neglect to listen to the One who knows us best. For He calls us by name. The name HE gave us. He made us to worship. To praise him with every ounce that we are.

So I will continue to dance. To sing. And I will refuse to discourage others from doing the same.

I see the joy you raise in the air. The One that brings you to the point of praise with your whole body and soul. You shove Him in my lap. "He's precious," you say.

Trust me....



He's beautiful...