Worship from the inside

We sit in church like little puppets, waiting for someone to pull our string. It tightens and the hand goes out to stiffly greet people. Relax. It tightens again and this time it hurts, someone is sitting in our pew and even worse, they are new, so how can we say anything. Now the strings compel us across the sanctuary, where we nurse our wounded pride. Relax. Ahh, that feels good, maybe I'll just sit for awhile. Bummer! That crazy worship pastor just had us stand up to sing. The strings won't take much more of this. Now that we are standing it sure is easier to see those kids disturbing the service with their clapping and dancing. Man I wish it was like the good old days where we actually could hear and understand what was going on. These new songs, who gets them anyway? We sit, a child comes near to mom and holds their hands up. Mom picks them up and holds them tight. That's when the strings compel us to raise our hands to God, he picks us up and holds us tight. Imagine a mom who said to a child wanting to be held, " Put your hands down you little charismatic. Someone might notice you." Of course not, but are we afraid to be noticed by God, or of what others might think. Perhaps we have never learned to worship in the first place!