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Thought Streams of a Goldfish on a Sunday Morning
When I was a little girl, my parents bought me a goldfish. We brought him home from the store in a plastic bag, knotted on top. Instead of releasing him directly into our new fish tank, my very wise mother placed him, bag and all, into the tank. This way, she explained, the water in his bag would gradually become the same temperature as the water in the tank. Then, we could plop him into his new home without shocking him. Makes sense…
When I worship God, I feel a bit like a goldfish. I arrive at church, tightly knotted in my plastic bag filled with stresses turbulently swimming in the forefront of my mind. Vying for center-stage this morning are the car-ride family bickering which is quickly becoming a Sundaymorning family tradition, grief over loved ones facing sobering health issues, and the weight of the ever-growing stack of bills in our “to-be-paid” pile.
All my inadvertent mind-racing is interrupted by the invitation, “Let’s all stand,” and the strum of a guitar. Plop! In I go, bag and all. It’s a familiar tune. One of my kids’ favorites. Blessed be Your Name when the sun’s shining down on me… I sing the well-known words, clapping to the beat, stopping only to unpeel my youngest from my leg, and hold him instead. Closing my eyes at the chorus, I begin focusing on the lyrics. Swaying gently with my baby in my arms, I remind myself that He gives and takes away, My heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be Your Name. My heart begins to affirm what my mouth has been singing. Yes, God, You are sovereign.
And there He is.
As God’s gentle presence surrounds me, I realize just how heavy and burdened I feel in comparison. Just moments prior I was so full of myself, and completely unaware of my desperate need to meet with Him. Now in His presence, I feel His Spirit loosening my knot. I am so overwhelmed with desire for more of Him, I can almost feel myself pressing against the plastic.
The band pauses, preparing for the next song. His presence continues surrounding me, floating impurities to the surface, and loving me to repentance.
The splendor of a King, clothed in majesty, let all the earth rejoice. He wraps Himself in light and darkness tries to hide, and trembles at His voice.
The knot is wide open now, and I begin pouring out one anxiety at a time, wading deeper into the King’s peace. The mountainous cares that consumed my thoughts just moments ago are leveled at the reality of How great is our God! I’m in the presence of the God who spoke the universe into existence. Sing with me… the Almighty who stopped time for Joshua, How great is our God! You are the God who parted the Red Sea, All will see... the Savior who 2,000 years ago forgave the sins I committed this morning. How great, how great is our God! You are a majestic, mighty King, and yet somehow small enough to fill this frail heart with Your peace. Yes, Lord, let Your peace reign in my heart. Let Your peace reign in my minivan, too!
Another pause, as the band prepares for the final song.
When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died…
How could You do it, Jesus? You are the Mighty King who deserves to be wrapped in splendor and light, but instead You chose to confine Your fullness to the frame of a singular man. That truth alone is awe-inspiring, but then You went beyond even that. You died for me. A simple “Thank you” does not seem nearly enough.
Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.
My all. Yes, that’s about right. Jesus, I want to be poured out, emptied completely for You. It is all about You. Everything else dims in comparison.
Thank you, God, for freeing me from circling around in the small confines of my worries. When I’m surrounded by You, I can’t help but be changed, one slow degree at a time. How humbling to know that You love me enough to gently untie me from my burdens, and let me dive into You.
“Please be seated.”
As I sit down, I feel lighter than I did just a few minutes ago. My heart feels freer after splashing and swimming in God’s presence. Shifting my youngest from my arms to my lap, I’m reminded that my kids have been hounding us for a pet lately. Maybe we should consider a goldfish? 