Jesus and My Dry County Girl

I had a wonderful time of worship this morning. I was in my car with the window's down, my stereo on pretty loud (my wife might say it was too loud and was possibly damaging my inner ear or something, but it was worth) and I was singing loud enough for passing drivers to look at me funny. But I did not care. It was a time of worship between me, God, and Rascal Flatts.

Odd? Yes. Holy? Absolutely.

This all came about because this morning at church we talked about worship. I love that God created us to sing. I love that at a concert or when a song is on the radio, we tap our foot to the beat, we hum along, and sometimes we just have to sing. We cannot hold it in any longer. I love that there are people in the world that can write down their own thoughts, emotions, and experiences into a poem and add their musical talent to it, and a wonderful song is born. I love that sometimes those people express ideas that were intended to be personal but have such a universal truth to them, we all can join in community and sing along. How can we keep from singing?

So this morning, after talking about worship and singing very Christian songs about redemption and praise to Jesus, which was wonderful, I got in may car and drove home. And along comes my friends Kenny, Randy, and the collective Rascal Flatts...and I sang! I sang loud, off key, and sometimes made my own rhythm and melody. I sang from the depth of my heart. Yes it was country music, but it was no less pleasing to God than the Christian themed songs we sang earlier.

I was reflecting on this singing (yes as I sang) and wondered to myself about this joy and thankfulness that came from me as I sang. Me, singing along to My Dry County Girl, Old Blue Chair, and Heroes and Friends, was just as praising as if the song was, Blessed Be Your Name or Agnus Dei. At that moment, my 2006 Toyota Corolla, with it's dented and scrated doors and sometimes sqeeky breaks, was just as holy as a basillica in Cartago or the sanctuary at Rose Drive.

Jesus and I had a wonderful drive home this morning. I had such thankfulness for the blessings that are in my life: my dry county girl, my old (black) chair, and my heroes and my friends. This thankfulness brought joy, and this joy brought song. And Jesus loved my out of tune, way too loud, made up rhythm, because it came from Him.