Memory Lane–Part 1

A few weeks back, Clark and I and a few of the other worship leaders at Center City Church were trying to recall our first memories of corporate worship. At what point in the journey did we begin to identify ourselves as worshippers of God?

Can I get a more difficult question, please?

Sure.

What made you want to become a worship leader?

We’re scheduled to film our responses tonight for the Psalms series at Center City Church. There are few things I hate more than being filmed. Public speaking perhaps. Therefore speaking on film, to me, feels like standing in the middle of a crowd in my underwear. Do I have to?

Today, while I was on my morning run, I started thinking through these questions. What was my first recollection of worship? I can remember one night walking into a church service shortly after my world blew up when Dad was arrested. I was 12 years old, horribly awkward, and completely disoriented having kissed Dad goodbye one morning before he left for work and then seeing him in hand cuffs on the evening news. A rather dark time in my personal history. One night, I found myself alone in a crowded room filled with other awkward teenagers, but the difference between them and me was, they were singing with their hands raised and their eyes closed as if they actually believed the words that were coming out of their mouths. I had never seen or heard anything like it. Interestingly enough, that was the night I met David. And yes, I was at least a head taller then him. Who would have thought almost 20 years later we’d be partnering to plant a church and raising our families .25 miles apart? Only God. I spent the next 6 years with that worshipping community. I was there every time the doors were open. It was my family. My sanity. My sanctuary. People can say all they want to about the charismatic church, and believe me, I have. But one thing I know for sure…something happened in those worship gatherings where I began to experience the presence of God, and before I knew it, I was hooked.

As for becoming a worship leader… I’ll admit, I didn’t submit to that without a fight. One of the worship leaders heard me singing behind him in church one Sunday and next thing I know, I’m on a stage singing a rather pitchy arrangement of Awesome in This Place. I think I was 14. Still awkward. Still taller than David. This same worship leader bought me my first guitar and taught me how to play all of the chords in the key of G. I think I played the same 4 chords until I left for college. Good thing I married a guitar player, right? He soon recruited David too, and shortly after he started leading worship, David and I wrote a song together. My first worship song ever. It was called Arms of Love. David says he doesn’t remember, but I think he’s blocked it out. And for good reason. It was awful. But, I can remember this moment as clear as if it were yesterday. I stood in the back of the room while David was leading worship with the song that we had written. It was during the transparency era, mind you, so there above his head, larger than life, were these lyrics that I had written during my 8th grade history class. Granted, I should have been paying better attention to the reign of King Tut and the 18th dynasty of the Egyptian pharaohs, but instead, I was having this private communion with God that sort of spilled out on paper and next thing I know, it is set to music and hundreds of voices are singing my words… my prayer… my divinely inspired moment…. and I was hooked…again. Before I had even entertained the idea of leading worship, I knew I wanted to write songs that people I would never meet could sing in places where I would never visit.

I’m still working on that.

Lets pause for a quick lunch break– Pre-schoolers and long blog posts don’t often mix.

Today’s menu: hot dogs and corn chips.

–Salina