Lifestyle of Automaticity

The church that I work at, Bent Tree, is about half the distance to my house from my old work. I used to drive 27 miles one way to work. It's a counter-commute (going the opposite way of heavy traffic from other commuters) so it wasn't so bad. The other day I was apparently on auto-pilot cause when I came to, I was exiting for work - only it was for my old place of employment, not Bent Tree. Without even realizing it, I drove about 14 miles out of my way that morning.

We've all done it - we'll be driving in a trance and have arrived at our destination without even being aware of our surroundings - it's called automaticity - the ability to do things without occupying the mind as a result of learning, repetition and practice (thanks wikipedia).

About six months ago, I was attending a mid-week service - an awesome gathering of young adults here in Dallas - where there was worship, teaching and small groups and I found myself broken at the end of a well known and frequently sung worship tune. I had literally sung every word without even realizing it. It's a song that the church knows and sings often and I went on auto-pilot while singing it. Automaticity had crept into my worship time that night and it broke me.

How often do we allow ourselves to get caught in the repetition of church - the repetition of worship and teaching. That night I vowed to never sing another song, read another word or voice another prayer with an empty heart or empty mind. I want to be intentional and focused on every single word I read or say. Whether it's a verse I've read before or a passage I've studied over again or a song I've sung a hundred times, it's great words I'm putting on my lips and I want it to sink in and be so real for me.

I remember the song was 'You Never Let Go' by Matt Redman - the bridge proclaims 'I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on, there will be an end to these troubles BUT until that day comes, STILL I will praise You, STILL I will praise You.' That's some heavy stuff! When, God forbid, something tragic comes my way, will I still be able to praise Him? I know I will but in that moment of worship I want to be able to sing of my commitment to Him from the depths of my being. I don't want to just sing it because I know it and it mean nothing more - if so then I'm just there making noise.

I want the words on my lips to be real in my life. What would it look like if we fully lived the words we sing, pray and proclaim?