See my fist?

Through the years, I've heard several worship pastors talk about how we shouldn't come to God in anger with a clenched fist but in surrender with an open palm. And, of course, that's true. But can I be honest with you?

If I'm angry at God (and I have been in the past), I'm not going to shake my clenched fist at Him. I'm going to wave my middle finger at Him, and I'm probably going to cuss like a truckdriver at Him. I'm pretty sure I've done that to Him on multiple occasions. (I say "pretty sure" because grieving is such a vague process, and my memories of grieving are probably a bit cloudy.) So, if I worship God by raising a clenched fist at Him, it probably isn't because I'm angry at Him.

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength." (Deuteronomy 6:5)

"Be angry, and do not sin. Meditate within your heart on your bed, and be still. Selah. Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and put your trust in the Lord." (Psalm 4:4-5)

"Deep calls unto deep at the noise of Your waterfalls; all Your waves and billows have gone over me." (Psalm 42:7)

I'm a deep well. Sometimes that's a good thing, and sometimes that can be a major problem. I think I'm like a former classmate at missionary school. I remember the head of the school told us about my classmate, "I've usually just seen him sitting at the back of the room like he's about to fall asleep, and then he just came alive when he started to lead worship." So, my classmate ended up leading worship a lot that year.

That's what a lot of us are like. Outwardly, we may not look like we're enjoying ourselves. We may appear enormously standoffish. We are probably very socially awkward. But if you zoom into our brain activity, you might be overwhelmed... probably in a good way or probably in a disgustingly bad way. Those of us who are deep wells store a lot -- A LOT -- on the inside. And sometimes it all comes tumbling out during the most inappropriate times.

So, speaking for myself, I'm currently (re)learning how to walk in self-control. And I'm (re)learning how to submit to authority. I'm fighting a lot of private battles. (Trust me, they need to remain private.) And I'm extremely thankful to be able to unleash everything I've been storing in my deep well at Somebody who never seems to be jarred, disgusted, or surprised at the things I puke at Him.

I'm learning that when Psalm 4 says to meditate on your bed, sure, sometimes that means a literal bed. There have been many nights when a battle has been raging inside my head, I've been pouring out my heart to God in all sorts of ways, and then the next morning, everything is calm, and what seemed extremely important the night before suddenly seems trite and silly. (See Psalm 30:5.)

But I'm also learning that the "bed" mentioned in Psalm 4 also means "intimacy." If there's something raging inside my heart, I don't have to let it control me. I can work it out -- morning, afternoon, evening, on my bed, in my car, in my bathroom, in my kitchen, in my office -- with God, who wants to be my Father, my Friend, my Counselor, my Healer, my Straightener, my Surgeon, my Safe Place. One recent evening, I participated in a special event, but the morning and afternoon before, I was working through offenses that were blazing through my head. Then during the actual event, I was fine. I got home afterwards and marveled to God at how well that went. He was like, "Would you have rather worked through it during the day, or would you have rather it all come out tonight?" The former, please. Thank You.

Almost 14 years ago when I started to get free from depression, God taught me that I needed to keep the flow going by pouring out my heart to Him. (See Psalm 62:8.) Now He's teaching me that He wants my passion. He wants all of it.

So, when I'm in a corporate worship setting at church and there are other people singing around me, I'm trying to find the balance between not distracting everybody with my loudness and just letting God have it, because He wants it, and He keeps pulling it out of me. Sometimes when I'm leading worship, He tells me something to the effect of, "If you don't put your all into it, it doesn't count." What do you say when the God of the universe tells you something like that? Yes, Lord. You want me to pretend I'm all alone in my living room with nobody to hold me back? You got it.

So, that's why I worship God sometimes with a clenched fist. I hope I'm not being disrespectful when I do so. I'm not expressing anger. I'm expressing triumph. I'm worshiping Him with all my strength, which, as a human being, I tend to express with my fists. And my clenched fist usually softens into an open palm. And sometimes it turns into a pointing index finger. It really just depends on what I'm singing, because I really do like for my body to express the words I'm singing. I think usually if I'm singing to "You," I'll point at God. If I'm singing about blessing my Friend who continually rescues me, I'll raise my open palm at God in surrender and in blessing. If I'm talking about conquering sin, death, and the grave, I'll raise my clenched fist, because that's my way of saying, "I won, enemy, and you lost."

But that's just me. I also like to worship with crazy eyes... especially if I'm singing a certain Chris Tomlin song about a certain God of Angel Armies. Or maybe I really am just crazy...

Whatever I am, I think God just wants me. However I tend to express myself, I think God just wants it. He hasn't zapped me off the face of the earth for being honest with Him (believe me, He's had zillions of chances to do so). Actually, I think it hurts Him when I hold myself back from Him. I think perhaps Adam and Eve could vouch for this, too.

But that's a glimpse at where I am right now in my journey. And I look forward to continuing to cling to God during the rest of my journey. I hope I'm not being disrespectful when I say this, but maybe He's a little bit crazy, too? Hmm. I guess I'll find out. Maniacal laughter!