There is a tension in my shoulders, up my neck, down my back. Its been there so long I hardly even notice it anymore. I can't even remember the last time I felt truly relaxed. Completely at ease. I could list alphabetically the reasons why but, honestly? They don't really matter. But the toll that list is taking on me does. 

I've always considered myself a brave person. Other people have even told me I was courageous for one reason of another. I look forward to that tiny adrenaline rush you get when you start something new or unknown and, while I can feel nervous about it, making big decisions was never scary or something I dreaded. 

Except I did. I did dread and fear and procrastinate and overthink and wallow and hide and blame. I do those things every day. But I call it something else and move on with my inflated sense of bravery and adventure. 

And so the unnamed, ignored fear settles into my soul and creeps up my spine, squeezing and tugging and restricting until I have no choice but to take notice. In my mind's eye I can see myself crouching in the dark corner, afraid to look into the mirror of my soul and see what horrid monstrosity lurks there. What life-sucking creature who's dread is felt but who's face remains unseen. A poisonous breath pours over me whispering, "Don't even try. You know you can't do it." So I sit there, in my own mind, for days or sometimes weeks, breathing in the poison, quaking in the corner, clawing at anything to try and bury myself further away from it all. 

But then... 

In mercy and grace that are both undeserved and unlooked for, the light of Love Incarnate appears. Not appears as though it had been absent but rather a flicker catches my eye and I turn to see a light that has been there all along- patient, warm, inviting. I stare into it and as I do the tightness in my chest opens up just a bit. The clawing in my mind recedes and the voice that whispered obscenities in dark is replaced by something new. If you could feel music on your skin or hear love in your ears or see peace in the air- it would be This. 

In the presence of This, I am seen, known, loved, forgiven, cherished. I am gifted courage, generosity, sincerity, strength, passion, humor, humility. Gently, I am led to the mirror and shown myself. I cringe with pain at first but somehow where the light touches I find healing. The ugliness I see in myself is transformed before my eyes into something worthy, useful, beautiful even. And I begin to realize that this is worship. 

This knowing and loving of a creature made in the Image is worship of the Creator. To be fully who and what He intended and to love that person is worship. I am actively worshipping when I courageously open my heart to another person; when I name a rising fear and put it back to rest; when I hear beautiful music and stop to let it penetrate my soul; when I look at the snow through my daughter's eyes and see magic; when I allow myself to feel the pain of disappointment without listening to the condemning voice that says, "You shouldn't even have tried." 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

The light is there, has been there all along. Lean into the light.