Hey beautiful people!
My new favorite worship song is “No Ordinary Worship” by Kelontae Gavin. This song got me thinking about the most dynamic form of worship: the lives we live. This poem was inspired by my life and by this song. Hope you enjoy!!
My life is no ordinary worship.
It did not come sauntering in on the backs of
Tried, true and marching toward glory
In doilies and sensible heels—no.
My life doesn’t always worship dutifully
On bowed knees beside my bed at night.
It doesn’t always remember to make Him first.
It tries to remember to be grateful for the hallelujah anyhow but sometimes it stutters
Tongue bitten and forced grace
Sometimes, my life’s worship is anything but ordinary.
My life’s worship doesn’t look like my grandmothers
Stately and dignified
With pantyhose, seams across the toes and a hat, always a hat
Lest the Lord see the Clairol Beeline Honey.
It doesn’t look like praying for the people who told me exactly where my 3/5ths of a person could sit
Though I wish my worship were that smooth, sometimes.
My life’s worship doesn’t look like my mother’s.
Childlike faith in the form of almost maddening contentment
Desire wrapped in fear presented with open arms.
It doesn’t look like serving the people who refuse to give me my just due with something like enthusiasm
Though I wish my worship were that open, sometimes.
This life of mine isn’t ordinary worship,
But it is testimony nonetheless
Testament to the power of a praying grandmother
And a resourceful mother too,
This worship is plan Bs that could survive the great flood
This worship is the cry of the sheep that strayed from the pack
The prodigal son
The one brought back
This worship is
Tattooed and pierced
Joyful and angry
Content and wanting.
This worship is asking why on the first day of college
And the answer becoming apparent 7 years and ; months later in the form of a BA blessing with my name on it.
My grandmothers sacrifice on it.
My mother’s tears on it.
This worship is depressed Eastern shore evenings
3 am with Oreos and BET After Dark
Wondering why I even bothered.
This worship is on Fulton just as much as it’s in Woodbourne
Worship enough for 5 year old boys and 13 year old girls
It is eminent on stages and forgotten behind scenes
This worship is so much deeper than it seems.
This worship is exhortation and corny jokes
Hugs and tears on shoulders.
It is “how did you even know” and “that kept me going today”…
This worship is love.
See, I keep meaning to type worship but my heart types a four letter word that my mind understood as a synonym for worship all along.
My life looks nothing like hers
And since my life IS my worship,
My song bops different.
It snaps on the 1 and 3 always
Still learning to stand proudly in the unordinary.
In the everyday
In the mundane and the special.
This life is no ordinary worship, y’all.
And that is ok by me.