A Confession

A couple of weeks ago I was pretty hesitant to go to church. Not for any good reason, just laziness. I was tired and just wanted to relax. I didn't want to have to worry about doing anything in particular. On my way to church I took comfort in the realization that it was not going to be so bad because I could sit and relax for about an hour. I could listen to some nice music and an inspiring message. That didn't sound so taxing. Then, like having ice water poured down my back, another thought interrupted my impending repose. How about spending an hour worshiping the living God? How about taking the time to affirm that you are devoted to him? How about getting the opportunity to connect with your friends?
I guess that all sounded pretty good, so by the time I actually made it to church (probably about ten minutes late) I felt kind of ready to do this worship thing.
Everything was going well, and it was nice, and then a friend of mine got up and led us in a prayer. She thanked God that we were able to meet and worship Him in safety and comfort. She prayed for people in other parts of the world that had to risk their lives to worship God in secret.
That got my attention. These people in another part of the world would stubbornly continue to meet, despite powerful reasons to stay home, and here I was debating whether or not to bother to show up for worship because I was kind of tired. These people seem to take this corporate worship thing pretty seriously. Maybe there's something I need to learn there. If I could barely be troubled to show up when I'm tired, what are the chances that I would risk my life or fragile semblance of freedom to make it?
This was pretty profound to me. I was moved.
And somehow I managed not to show up for worship the next week because I didn't feel up for it.
I think I could learn a few ugly things about myself from this experience, but one thing that immediately comes to mind is that I seem to have allowed this activity of gathered worship of God to somehow become about me. It seems the deciding factors of whether or not I am going to show up for worship depend on how I'm feeling and how I'm going to feel if I go. Now I'm a little more moved, but I still have this nagging sense that I go to worship more for me than for God. When I go to worship, I want it to be more important to me that God is pleased than that I'm pleased.