tight.

forgive me, father, for i have sinned. it has been one day since my last confession.

usually at shows i judge. i judge long and hard. i see people who look like they are playing dress up just to look *awesome at these concerts, and if the particular band or musician is a believer i find that the audience is prone to hand raising and eye shutting. i feel like people do this for attention and i typically get frustrated, because i am feeling moved by the music too - i just don't feel the need to make a scene out of it.

and then i went to this john mark mcmillan show last weekend. he's one of those guys that i've seen a ton before, but this show was free and a band that i really, really like was playing before him so i really wanted to go.

it was hot and sticky and body odor was prevalent. i was standing too close to the people around me and they were standing too close to me. not the ideal situation for anyone with claustrophobia or those prone to rashes when surrounded by hot, sticky people who are dancing.

JMM came out and i will just go ahead and say the word that makes me a little itchy all over - he was anointed. there's something about his music, something about his lyrics, that makes me feel all warm and happy and moved and ready to worship.

and all of the sudden i didn't seem to notice the close proximity of strangers and those not so strange, and i just began to worship. like... eyes shut tight, smile on my face, hands up or down: worship. and it's like i didn't even realize how hypocritical i was being until all was said and done. the lights came on and people began to disperse and i thought, 'dang i suck.' all this time i had seen people worshiping in an odd venue that probably doesn't usually see a ton of worship and assumed they were doing it for attention and there i was - feeling like i had this intimate time with the Lord and i felt so refreshed. like i didn't even realize how stale my worship had become until i experienced the worship that night. ahh no one but God can really make me feel quite that crappy. (in a good way)

so if you've ever raised your hands at a rock show that i've been at too, i've probably looked at you and thought you were a joker. i am sorry, truly. God can meet you wherever you're at, whenever you're there, and in whatever way he wants to.

and i hope he always does.