One day, during my first pregnancy, I was driving home from work talking to my mom about some thoughts I had been wrestling with in regards to miscarriage. I was still very early in my pregnancy, and couldn’t shake the overwhelming fear that something bad was going to happen.
This fear I’m talking about isn’t a normal fear, it was the panic in the middle of the night, breaking out in hives, can’t fully function, paralyzing type of fear.
Since being diagnosed with PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) at the age of eighteen I had done a good amount of research when it came to the subject of pregnancy and one of the most startling facts was that the miscarriage rate was upwards of 40-50%. I tried not to let the numbers get to me, yet this particular day they weighed so heavy, I couldn’t stop myself from going down the destructive path.
You know the one…
The path where you come up with fifty different outcomes to the same problem and each one ends up being worse than the last.
The path where you tell yourself that you are the problem and that everything will be okay as long as you don’t get in the way.
Sisters, why do we do this to ourselves?
Why do we allow the enemy to speak these lies into our minds so often we start believing them?
That day in my car I knew the only way I was going to allow myself to move from the state of paralyzing fear was to turn on music.
But not just any music.
The new Bethel worship album had just come out and hands-down my favorite song was No Longer Slaves. The chorus is simple, but powerful.
‘I’m no longer a slave to fear,
I am a child of God.’
It felt as though the only way my body would relax and allow my breath to become easy, was to play this song on repeat and allow the words to wash over me.
Within a few moments, I felt the life rush back through my veins.
Worship is an act of total surrender of self, allowing us to find comfort and peace as we praise our Heavenly Father for how good and perfect and holy He is.
Worship allows us to do battle on the front lines of the fight occurring between our flesh and our spirit.
For most people, when they hear the word worship they think of music, which is true, yet there are many more avenues we can travel down in regards to how we worship our Heavenly Father. I have been immersed in church my whole life, which has allowed me to witness the different ways that people worship.
There is so much beauty in worship and depending on the season of life that I am in, I find myself leaning in different directions to wage those frontline fights.
Some battles are similar to the one I described a bit ago, and the only way to find peace is through music.
Some battles require nothing except prayer and thanksgiving to God for what He has done, and what He is going to do.
Some battles call for journaling our life story and allowing God to pour out His goodness and grace over the hardest, most vulnerable places of our being.
It could be something completely different, but the goal should be that we know how to battle confidently through worship regardless of circumstances.
About a month after I had this battle in the car, I found out that Everett’s heart had stopped beating. I vividly remember the emergency room doctor coming into our room and telling us the news. Within an instant the tears came and all I could mutter was “Jesus, Jesus, be here right now. You are a Good Father.”
In the hardest moment of my life thus far I could only turn to my eyes to heaven and tell God that no matter what, I was going to praise Him.
I called out to the Lord in my distress,
and the Lord answered me,
and He put me in a spacious place.
As we left the hospital that day I turned on my phone and a song immediately started to play. This song has been with me for the last twenty-six months as I’ve battled the on-going grieving process, and it never fails to comfort me. It’s a song many of you may know and the chorus goes like this:
“It is well
With my Soul
It is well, it is well with my soul.”
There were no other words that were needed during the drive home.
God was already working in and through me as I entered into battle that day.
One I wasn’t going to let the enemy win.
Jesus was going to be glorified through it all.
Not because I was so strong, but because,
in my weakness, I threw myself onto the Savior’s strength.
“Worship is not an experience. Worship is an act, and this takes discipline. We are to worship ‘in spirit and in truth.’ Never mind about the feelings. We are to worship in spite of them.”- Elisabeth Elliot
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