The Impact of a Raised Hand

My memory is an odd thing to figure out. Take dreams, for example. I always remember every detail of my dreams. This makes for some fairly humorous conversations, as you can imagine. But then there are times that I can't remember why I walked upstairs...for the 5th time in 20 minutes. What is that about? Sometimes my mind is a steel trap, able to recall vivid details about experiences I have, and other times I can't even remember if I had lunch or not. I've been told that it will only get worse...good news. But then there are certain moments, certain snapshots if you will, that will forever be etched into my memory. They impacted me at that moment, and continue to impact me today.

I've blogged about raising hands in worship before. But I have to tell you, I left something out of that post. Something impactful in my own life. Something that continues to turn my eyes heavenward and put things in perspective. It's the impact that others have had on me simply by raising their hands in worship. I know that wasn't why they were doing it...but it's stuck with me.

About 10 years ago, some friends of ours were in awful car accident. The accident claimed the life of one of the children and forever changed the lives of all who survived, introducing a world of wheelchairs, surgeries, therapy and separation. There were all taken to separate hospitals, given the severity and uniqueness of their injuries. And it was clear they would be in hospitals for many, many months. Even so, there was a funeral that needed to be planned for their precious four year old daughter. I played piano for that funeral. I think I tried to sing, too. I forget if I was successful in that endeavor. What I won't forget is trying to see past my tears as I watched the parents wheeled up to the front of the sanctuary...still in hospital beds. Not able to completely sit up. And the tiny little casket, which just broke my heart. But then something happened. The focus changed, and we worshipped. This couple who was still dealing with their own injuries, wondering if their other 3 children would survive, and mourning the loss of their baby...they each raised a hand and worshipped their Savior. I will never forget that image.

Likewise, I will never forget the image of Jeanette Prenkert standing to her feet and raising her hand as she sang "It is Well with My Soul" at her husband, Kip's, funeral just a week ago. Or Steve Hunsberger doing something similar at his young son's funeral. Or the multitude of people declaring God's goodness at Lisa Lengacher's funeral. It has impacted me, and challenged me. It has taught me to believe and declare that God is exactly who He says He is...no matter what. And even though there may be hurt and confusion and questions, our minds can engage in worship, as we make that choice to believe that He is worthy of our everything.

Then there's my 7 year old daughter, Ashlyn. Ashlyn doesn't do anything half hearted. If she's going to laugh - you're going to hear it. If she's going to cry - you're really going to hear it. She feels things strongly and is very expressive at home, but will often get shy in front of others. A few years ago, as I was leading worship, I noticed that some members of the band were distracted. Then I saw a few tears start to flow. Now, I had been on staff at this church for awhile, and I had never seen this happen before. So, I started to look into the congregation and see what was going on. I saw Ashlyn. Not only was she standing up (when everyone else was seated), but she was standing on her chair. Both hands raised as high as she could reach. Her eyes were closed. She was singing. And I was witnessing an amazingly holy moment. Like any mom, I lost it. And like any worship leader, I tried to recover as quickly as possible. Until I realized that it didn't really matter if I was composed at that moment or not. Even if I would have stopped in the middle of the song (which I didn't do) nothing could take away the spirit that had fallen over that place. The sincerity and impact of that 5 year old who didn't care what others thought had a trickle effect, let me tell you. It had impact. And I know it blessed God's heart to see her lead that congregation in worship...to lead her mother in worship. She taught me a lot of things that day. She taught me that if an expression of worship is genuine, God-centered rather than self seeking and comes out of a heart that is directly connected with His, then who cares what other people think? And who cares what the "rules" are? Stand up, kneel, fall on your face...at home, at church, wherever...just give Him everything you've got!

We all know that small things can make big impacts: a note in the mail, delivering a meal, an offer to babysit or shovel the sidewalk or even a simple smile in a crowded store. Or maybe it's a hand raised in worship. I'm not saying that's why we should raise our hands. But, I think it's pretty cool the way God takes that simple gesture to not only focus our own hearts and bring glory to Himself, but also to impact those around us. And I'm remembering that impact today...