As many do, I had my favorite seat in church. Across the aisle from me was a sweet older lady who always took her same seat, but she found her spot by having memorized the layout of the sanctuary. This quiet lady was blind. Early, before services began, a handicap transport van arrived at the front entrance of the church. The driver would escort her and her service dog into the sanctuary, but she had memorized the steps and turns to find her seat. Along with her companion by her side, she was independent and anxious to participate in the worship service.
My mind wondered how different a worship service would be for me if I couldn’t see everything going on around me. I wouldn’t be looking around to see who was in attendance and what they were wearing. I would only hear the music but wouldn’t know the musicians’ ages, skin color, or style. I wouldn’t see the instruments but only hear the blending of sounds they made. I would listen to the words from the pastor and the scripture he read, without judging him by his age, clothes, and mannerisms. It would be easier to focus on God and not what was going on around me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the gift of sight that lets me see sunsets and the faces of my beautiful grandchildren. I must wonder, however, as I look at this sweet lady and her dog, if she doesn’t receive the presence of God on a whole different level than me.
Maybe I’m really the one that’s blind because I don’t see all that the Lord is giving me when I’m in a worship service. I have a front-row seat to hear the scriptures, auditory prayers being lifted up to heaven, music, and the words of songs inspired by God… it’s something to think about.
Psalms 146:8 says, ”The Lord opens the eyes of the blind. The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous.”
As for the dog, I often told my children after church that they needed to take a lesson from the dog sitting silently still at his master’s feet. It’s time we sit quietly at our “Master’s Feet”.