Worship

Sometimes I live like I was made to work, to eat, to sleep, to make lists and then cross them off, to deposit paychecks, to pay bills, to meet deadlines, to fill my calendar and feel the anxious knot in my stomach that tells me I'm going to fail at all of this.

And then there are days when I remember what I was made for.
I was made to worship.
I was made to breathe.
To breathe oxygen into my lungs and grace into my soul.
And to breathe out truth and love into every soul I meet.
I was made to walk through woods and see the One who makes branches flow out like music, giving birth to transparent vein-crossed leaves.
To see the One who makes the path under my feet straight and smooth, against all odds.
To see Him.
To worship Him.
To love Him.

And so were you.