Here I Am To Worship
It happened again. The tears just flowed. For some inexplicable reason Sunday worship (of late) just has this knack of kicking my tear ducts into overdrive. Maybe it’s the overwhelming love from the Father that I feel from just standing there; a love so undeserving and yet unconditionally bestowed. Maybe it’s the comfort and peace that I derive from being in His presence; that He knows exactly how I feel (my sorrows, my regrets, my frustrations, my worries, and…those thoughts of You), and that I don’t have to pretend that I’m okay. He understands. Sometimes I hear Him speaking to me through the lyrics of the songs. Lyrics so powerful they make me cry.
How does one conceal such tears?