I went to bed the other night with the hymns of Charles Wesley and Isaac Watts ringing in my head. I woke up to Matt Redman and Chris Tomlin on the radio. What in the world just happened?
I went to bed last week recalling the majestic strains of a pipe organ. I woke up hearing a tricked-out electric guitar covering all the riffs. What in the world just happened?
Recently I went to bed considering which hymnal I should purchase for our congregation. I woke up to a request concerning which presentation software I preferred. What in the world just happened?
I went to bed a few nights ago with the stunning visual image of stained glass windows still seared in my memory. I woke up stunned by theatrical lighting and a few lasers. What in the world just happened?
I went to bed and couldn't keep the intricate beauty of that choral anthem from bouncing around in my brain. I woke up and couldn't keep that new worship song out of my mind. What in the world just happened?
I went to bed not long ago still marveling at the soaring, cathedral-like acoustics in our sanctuary. I woke up to the notification that my “in-ears” had arrived. What in the world just happened?
Everything was so different. Everything was so new. Overnight (or at least it seemed that way) all that I'd been trained for, all that I was familiar with, all that I learned and experienced growing up had changed. What in the world just happened?
I went to bed feeling that God was honored in our worship, that His name was revered, and that He was still in control. I woke up and found that nothing really had changed.
