My wonderful dysfunctional family (or why I am such a big Waa Waa)

Worship is our response to the overtures of love from the heart of the Father...Singing, praying, praising all may lead to worship, but worship is more than any of them. Our spirit must be ignited by the Divine fire. Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster

Having served under a true worship leader for the past five years, I am loving the section of this book on worship. For many years of my life, I believed that the singing, praying and praising were the worship, but as I have matured in my faith, I have come to realize that these are just the outside forms worship takes. True worship, worship the Father likes, comes when my soul is totally in tune and listening to Him. Sometimes, that is absolutely musical. And sometimes, that's very quiet. I fear that in many churches, the music is the focus of worship, when the Father should be the object of worship. And while I love corporate worship with my brothers and sisters in Christ, I know that it only comes out of the overflow of my own private worship. Here's hoping your day began with some time for private worship of the One who adores you more than you can imagine.

Now, you're wondering about my dysfunctional family, so let me explain. For those of you who don't know me that well, I come from a wonderful family. My immediate family growing up was my parents and two older sisters. But we come from a large extended family on both sides. It's a big, Southern, everybody-talk-at-once kind of family. My Uncle Raleigh long ago said that we were dysfunctional because we were so in love with each other and kind to one another, because the rest of the world didn't "do" family like that. As I've grown over the years, and especially as I've been in the public schools, I have come to realize that our very tight-knit family isn't the norm. And I couldn't be more grateful. I'll take my dysfunctional family where we all are crazy about one another over somebody else's family any day of the week.

So yesterday, we went to the nursing home with Phil. I sang and led the music, Marc spoke, and Sarah Beth just sat there and looked good. This is a ministry Phil is very devoted to, so I think he was really happy to have us there. We sang every slow, way out of my vocal range hymn we could find, and then Marc spoke for a few minutes about what we would be doing in Russia, and then he showed a video he made about our trip to St. Petersburg in March. Sarah Beth and I moved to the back of the room so that people didn't have to look through our big heads. Well, my daddy did the voice-over for Viktor Sipko, a leader of the Russian Baptist Union, for the video. As soon as I heard his voice, I started to tear up. Then I looked at Sarah Beth, who started to tear up. Then the real crying began. Now I am an almost-forty-year-old woman, and I am sitting in the back of the room crying because I really miss my momma and daddy. What a waa-waa (a phrase coined by my sister many years ago to indicate someone is a big crybaby)! But I just couldn't help myself. I do miss my momma and daddy. A lot. The good news is, I can talk to them whenever I want. The bad news is, it's not the same as being there. But I'll take missing them over not missing them because they're creepy any day. I'm thankful that I have such a great relationship with them, and I know that my big, loud, dysfunctional family is a blessing from God. (But if you see my momma and daddy on Sunday at church, give them a hug for me, please.)

I must run. I hope each of you hugs and kisses your wonderful family today. Above all, thank God for those He has blessed you with today. Blessings!

His,
Kellye