Sunday morning worship time isn’t always very conducive to worship when you’re a mom.
I breathe a big sigh of relief if we even make it there on time and in one piece. And then I try to sing the right words at the right time while balancing a child in one arm and a song book in the other. I turn from breaking up a fight between to children to whispering to another, “put down your book and stand up and sing”.
But neither am I to neglect worshiping our God. Because if I do, the rocks will cry out in our place.
Worship time isn’t limited to before and after prayer time on Sunday mornings.
Worship is breaking into song as I drive 70 miles per hour on the highway. Worship is pausing to pray before mealtimes. Worship is finding just a moment to be still amid the busyness. Worship is a whispered prayer while doing dishes. Worship is doing every little thing to the glory of God, with a smile on my face and praise on my lips.
And that leaves me with plenty of time and opportunity to worship, if only I will make the choice.
Worship is what leaves me longing for more. More of my Jesus. More time to worship Him.