Miss Romaine is a long-time volunteer at the nursing home we visit from time to time. She’s probably the same age as some of the residents, but she doesn’t act like it. Every Sunday morning Miss Romaine gathers the residents who want to go to the church service and makes sure that they get there by pushing their wheelchairs to the chapel herself or directing others to do so. But her service doesn’t end there. She stations herself near the back of the chapel and is constantly alert to the needs of those around her, with one ear on the service and the other ear and both eyes on the residents. At any moment she may quietly pop up and get a Kleenex for someone or adjust a wheelchair or fix a blanket.
As I watched her once again during the service yesterday morning, I wondered if she’s ever able to truly focus on the service and be ministered to, if she’s able to worship free from distraction. And then the Spirit quietly and distinctly spoke to my heart: “She is worshipping.”
Though worshipping Him does minister to my own heart, I forget sometimes that the focus of worship isn’t about what I get out of it, but ultimately what I give Him. Miss Romaine knows all about that. Every Sunday morning, she worships her Savior with her hands and feet.
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