Worship is a tough topic to ponder. What is it, really? I’m certain it doesn’t require a building. Or a certain day of the week. Try to cram it into a formula and it will cease to be what it is. You can plan for it, program it, schedule it … and it can still fail to show up.

Clearly worship isn’t what I thought it was when my 7-year-old rear sat in a wooden pew while I sang I’ll Fly Away and wondered if my double dipping in the communion crackers was an unforgivable sin.

I received a beautiful email from a reader and friend last week. Most of it I will not share. With anyone. It’s precious and will lose something of it’s rarity in the publicity. But I will share with you one very poignant line …

“All I know is, no matter what we do or where we are,

even the willingness to  wake up in the morning and try again with all our stuff


Beautiful. That’s what Dare to Live is all about … being willing to wake up one more day, and use

your breath

and life

and even your mess

… to live. For Him.

That’s worship.

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