Tag Archive for: Psalm 48:9

Not Alone After All

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Psalm 48:9 — O God, we meditate on your unfailing love as we worship in your Temple.

It’s possible to be in a room full of thousands of people and still feel completely alone.

That’s what our friend Taylor shared with us after attending a conference. She was standing in a massive crowd, trying to hold it together, while inside she was praying, “Lord, I know I’m not physically alone, but I feel alone. I just need You to speak to me.”

Then the worship started.

Right there in the middle of that crowd, Taylor stopped trying to hold everything together. Instead of focusing on the noise around her, she quieted her heart and did what Psalm 48:9 invites us to do: she meditated on His unfailing love.

She simply let herself remember that God loved her. And in that moment, everything began to shift.

And I thought, That’s what it’s all about.

In a room full of thousands, God still sees the one.

He saw Taylor. He knew what she was carrying. And He met her right in the middle of it.

God’s presence isn’t measured by the size of the crowd. His love is personal.

Maybe you’ve been in a season where you’ve cried out, “God, I need to know You’re here.”

If that’s you, hear this today: you are never a face lost in the crowd. You are a child known and loved by the Creator.

So today, turn down the noise for a moment. Quiet your heart. Think about His unfailing love. Let the truth of who He is become louder than the loneliness you feel.

You may not have all the answers. You may not even feel different right away.

But you are seen. You are known. And you are never, ever alone.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What noise—around you or inside you—has been making it difficult to hear God lately?
  • When you think about God’s “unfailing love,” what comes to mind?
  • What would it look like today to stop for a moment and simply receive His love?
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Worship from the Back Row

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Psalm 48:9 — O God, we meditate on your unfailing love as we worship in your Temple.

This is so different than what I am used to.

Picture me last night at church—diaper bag at my feet, stroller close by, sitting on the back row. Mickey Mouse is playing on my phone with the sound turned off, and I’m pull out toys, snacks, and anything else that might keep my son Lennox occupied.

I am used to being the one on stage leading worship or sharing the message. Now, I am up and down, slipping in and out of the baby cry room between songs.

And you know what? That’s okay.

I will not pretend that it is easy. I am tired in ways I did not know before. In this season of my life there late nights, early mornings, and constant demands of a baby who needs me. There are moments when I miss serving like I used to. I miss the rhythm, teamwork, and energy of ministry.

But when I look down at the little boy in my arms and breathe, I just feel gratitude. Because he lifts his chin up and gives me that toothy grin, and I know I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

I think about how long I prayed for this and the years of infertility. I think about how faithful God has been to get me here. Every cry, every diaper, every late night—it is an answer to prayer. God did not miss a moment, and I believe He will not waste this one either.

So wherever you are today—rocking a baby, caring for a loved one — just know that it matters and keep going. Because worship isn’t limited to a song or a stage. It’s found in in loving well and showing up where God has placed us.

Seasons come and go, and one day I may lead from the stage again. But right now, I am content to worship from the back row. This is what I am called to do in this season. Even the quiet sacrifices that no one else sees—heaven does.

And I’m thankful for that. Just like the psalmist said, it is so good to “meditate on (God’s) unfailing love as we worship in (His) Temple.” After all, if worship is about giving God our all, then maybe I have never been closer to the front than I am right now.

 

A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What season are you in right now, and how might God be inviting you to worship within it rather than in spite of it?
  • Where do you feel unnoticed or unseen, and how does remembering God’s unfailing love shift your perspective?
  • What ordinary, quiet acts in your life could become acts of worship if you invited God into them?
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