Friday night we had an experience that brought back some amazing college memories. If I had to pick a year, I think my freshman year of college was my favorite. Here's where my husband will interject and tell you his feelings are hurt {because I didn't meet him until midway through my sophomore year}.
Freshman year was my favorite for a couple of reasons. I found three girls that were my age to hang out with. We were inseparable. We were in each other's rooms. We "studied" in the library until it closed. We drove around town singing at the top of our lungs. We went splashing in the fountain at Jordan Valley Park. We busted ice off each other's cars when it iced over that year. We had sleepovers. We attended Christian Campus House events together. We got each other.
One thing that we did together...that I didn't fully remember until Friday night...was attend Friday Night Praise {or FNP}. FNP was exactly that. We gathered at the boys' house from Icthus {another campus ministry} and boy, did we pack that place. I'm talking rows and rows of people...on the couches, on the floor, stacked up the stairway, in the kitchen and bedrooms and anywhere else you could find a place to sit.
Our favorite place to be was in the kitchen. It was quite funny to see the boys' cleaning schedule up on the fridge each week...and to see that they might not have been the cleanest people, but they did try and that's what counted. Friday Night Praise was acoustic worship with people from all over campus. They had a projector with words, and if you were in the living area, you could see them.
It was that year that I really learned to worship. I learned that you didn't have to be singing the words to the songs in order to worship. Since we were almost always in the kitchen, we didn't see the words. When we didn't know a song, we listened. We closed our eyes and focused on praising the One who gave us that moment. About midway through, they turned off the projector and turned off the lights.
It was that exact moment that I lived for all week. It was in that moment that I felt closest to my Creator. It was in that moment that everyone's voices got a little bit louder. The foot tapping got a bit heavier. The emotions were a tad higher. It was in that moment that I could lift my hands and release all the tension, anger, stress, sadness, happiness, joyfulness, praises to the One who really loves and cares about me.
This past Friday night, Tyler and I attended The Attic for the first time since we've lived in St. Louis. It was hosted at the church we attend, so we decided to check it out. It was an hour of singing. And in that hour, my mind was thinking back to my college memories. It was thinking about what it really means to worship.
I want to get back to the heart, to the root of worship when everything is about Him. It doesn't matter if I sing or pray or serve...if it's about Him, it's worship. I want to put Him first in everything. Some days are harder than others, but He's here to help guide us.
What does worship mean to you?
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