The diary of an international worship leader aged 43 3/4

DAY 5

This is the final diary entry for two reasons. Firstly, today was our last day in Swedelburgh before we get back on another Whine-air flight back to the UK. but secondly, and more significantly, I am very soon to have a birthday and so I will no longer be 43 3/4.

Tonight I led worship in the main gathering, which I loved. Fortunately the Swedleburgish people all worship just as much in English as Swedleburgese, so I didn't have to sing in a foreign language. Which is just as well really, as I tried to learn just one word in Swedleburgese before I came here, and it took me over ten minutes.

As I led the worship I could see my good friend, and that night's speaker, Brucie Blather, worshipping away. I always find it encouraging when the speaker really worships. Most speakers tend to sit down 2 minutes into the worship and start to flick though their notes, which I think is a shame because they really miss out on the anointed bits.

Mind you, I often leave for coffee after the worship rather than sit and listen to the talk, so I guess I can't really complain.

But anyway, I am always impressed by old Blather-boy. He speaks with real conviction, but without any pretentiousness or hype. With so many speakers these days you seems to get a very ordinary message wrapped up in an overly extraordinary package. But with Brucie you feel that you seem to hear a very extraordinary message delivered by a very ordinary person.

And that's strangely comforting.

After he spoke he then said that we were going to pray for some healings. He gave a few prophetic words and asked a few people to come forward. He and the team prayed whilst gently laying hands on them. And a few people got healed. But even when people got healed, which is incredible, there was still this sense that this was a very extraordinary event, happening to and through very ordinary people.

And how I need to be reminded of that.

Ordinary. That's me.

Extraordinary. That's God

I reflect on all the trappings that ministry can present to me: the status as an invited, visiting worship leader to another country; my name as songwriter at the bottom of the words on the projector; the recognition wrapped up in the royalty cheque that comes through the post every quarter; the evidence of my gifting provided by by cd on the shelves in the bookstore; the stage provided by the big conference. How easy it is to think that I am the extraordinary one.

But I'm not.

It's God who is the extraordinary one.

I'm very very ordinary.

And that's very very comforting.