LESS MECHANICAL

It's been occurring to me recently that I don't talk a lot about worship. It's strange, now that I think about it, because it has always been my passion.

"If you listen for long enough to somebody talking..." I said, the other day to a roomful of people, "...you'll be able to hear what's on their heart because it will overflow in their words."

Hmm. 784 posts, over 300,000 words, almost three years - not a lot about my passion.

There is a sort-of reason. When I started this, it was supposed to be light relief, a kind of journal of thoughts and events - I wanted to keep it from getting deep, personal or even controversial, and I was conscious that not all of you are even close to being believers. I wasn't sure you would understand how or why my heart beats and breaks the way it does. I was being over-sensitive.

There was no need really. I think you'll get it.

I went to the early morning prayer meeting this morning. It's every Tuesday at 6:30am, and sometimes I get asked to lead some worship from the piano.

In fact, I'd been feeling guilty today because I mostly go when I'm supposed to play and I'm never quite sure whether the regulars have spotted the correlation.

Anyway, I got over that and sat down and switched on the piano.

My fingers quickly found a G major shape. I played something soft, trickling over the F#.

Then I opened my mouth to sing... and nothing came out.

I've been doing this a long time. This is unusual. It wasn't hay fever, or a broken voice; it wasn't me forgetting the words (that has happened lots of times) and it wasn't just a mental block. I just couldn't sing. And I think it was because I was realising something about how mechanical it has all become.

So in-between the chords, while tears formed in my eyes and my fingers fluttered over the keys, I started to say sorry for letting it get that way. No song, no words, just heartbeats.

Relationship should never be mechanical. It should be real, flowing, in and of the moment, and raw with intensity.

I did sing something in the end, and for the first time in a long time I completely forgot that there was anyone else in the room.

This, this is how it used to be - all for an audience of One. How did I lose sight of it?

After all of that, I prayed with Adam and then drove through the early morning sunshine to work, promising that I would do my best to keep it real.

I think, whatever your relationships are like, it's important not to let them get mechanical and to keep them real.

I'm talking about a personal relationship with God of course, but it applies to every relationship, I suppose. It's important to take a little moment between the moments and let it flow. Somewhere between the chords, between the music and in among the words that trip off your tongue, there is bound to be a moment - a moment to make it real.

And that's what I want. I want it to be real.