This weekend I had the pleasure of taking a trip with my aunt and three-year-old cousin to an island off the coast of South Carolina. The mildly deserted island contained more aquatic wildlife than I had ever before seen in person. I had the experiences of petting a dead horseshoe crap, trudging through a mud pit, finding sea turtle eggs and watching dolphins dance off the shoreline. I also had the opportunity to paddle myself through a kayak tour guided by a few highly specialized environmentalists. The tour began with a brief training for me and the other rather inexperienced kayakers. I tried to listen carefully to each instruction. I didn't want to be that one person to flip the kayak before the tour even began. The tour was very slow-moving in the beginning. The environmentalists gave the entire history of the island and what felt like an inventory of every living creature there. I tried to listen! I really tried! But there was a part of me that wished we could paddle a little quicker. I was up for a challenge.
When one of the specialists announced that we should head back to the shore, I quickly bolted. I was ready to use my rutter and paddle at full speed. Apparently, an older woman and some guys in a double-boat had the same idea because they were far ahead of me before I could blink! After a few minutes of hard core paddling, I looked back to see the substantial distance I had formed between myself and the rest of the group. When I looked forward I suddenly became overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment. The sea was bright and blue! The sand, far in the distance, had a shine to it that made it look like someone had showered it with glitter. There was not a cloud in the sky! The afternoon sun brought the whole estuary to life. I began to sing. "I stand in awe! I stand in awe! Symphony of all created things, sing the song that we were meant to sing!" That praise to Jesus slowly morphed into a medley of worship songs. I sang a song until another one popped into my head, then I would begin the next song with no proper transition. Sometimes in the middle of a word! I even switched keys in the middle of songs to make it easier on my voice. I am no Kelly Clarkson.
In the midst of my performance for my Lord I did not realize how close I was getting to the guys in front of me. I saw them glancing back at me a few times and I know that they chuckling about me. I quieted my singing to a whisper for about a second, then I raised my voice to an even louder level than before. I didn't really care. I didn't know these guys and I wanted Jesus to hear me loud and clear!
An environmentalist on a motor boat came up to me right in the middle of "Blessed Be the Name" and told me to move further to the right. I looked to my left to see an alligator nearly twenty feet beside me hovering on the surface of the water. I began to sing again as I paddled much faster than before, changing the words of the song to "Lord protect me from this creature!"
I arrived at the shore and looked out to the rest of the kayakers still slowly paddling back. I took a deep breath basking in the glory of God for one last moment. God truly spoke to me in that moment. He challenged my idea that worship is a song in a church and taught me that worship is everything. The air I was breathing in. The kayak keeping me afloat. The alligator that could have eaten me! Worship is my baby cousin when he struggles through words. It is my aunt speaking about worm poop with passion and excitement. It is me... trying to sing. Worship is everything! "Worship the LORD in the splendor of his holiness." Psalm 96:9
