Just Lift Up Holy Hands... And Worship Him

Worship is when you're aware that what you've been given is far greater than what you can give. Worship is the awareness that were it not for his touch, you'd still be hobbling and hurting, bitter and broken. Worship is the half-glazed expression on the parched face of a desert pilgrim as he discovers that the oasis is not a mirage.
Worship is the "thank-you" that refuses to be silenced.
We have tried to make a science out of worship. We can't do that. We can't do that any more than we can "sell love" or "negotiate peace."
Worship is a voluntary act of gratitude offered by the saved to the Savior, by the healed to the Healer, and by the delivered to the Deliverer. And if you and I can go days without feeling an urge to say "thank you" to the One who saved, healed, and delivered us, then we'd do well to remember what he did.

The old man on the pier couldn't go a week without saying "thank you." His name was Eddie Reckenbacker. If you were alive in October 1942, you probably remember the day that he was reported missing at sea.
He had been sent on a mission to deliver a message to General Douglas MacArthur. With a handpicked crew in a B-17 known as "Flying Fortress," he set off across the South Pacific. Somewhere the crew became lost, the fuel ran out, and the plane went down.
All eight crew members escaped into the life rafts. They battled the weather, the water, the sharks, and the sun. But most of all, they battled the hunger. After eight days, their rations were gone. They ran out of options. It would take a miracle for them to survive.
And a miracle occurred.
After an afternoon devotional service, the men said a prayer and tried to rest. As Rickenbacker was dozing with his hat over his eyes, something landed on his head. He would later say that he knew it was a sea gull. He didn't know how he knew; he just knew. That gull meant food..... if he could catch it. And he did.
The flesh was eaten. The intestines were used as fish bait. And the crew survived.
What was a sea gull doing hundreds of miles away from land?
Only God knows.
But whatever the reason, Rickenbacker was thankful. As a result, every Friday evening this old captain walked to the pier, his bucket full of shrimp and his heart full of thanks.
We'd be wise to do the same. We've much in common with Rickenbacker. We, too, were saved by a Sacrificial Visitor.
We, too, were rescued by One who journeyed far from only God knows where.
And we, like the captain, have every reason to look into the sky... and Worship.
Max Lucado "In the Eye of the Storm"