Worship happens when you’re aware that what you’ve been given is far greater than what you can give. Worship is the awareness that were it not for God’s touch, you’d still be hobbling and hurting, bitter and broken. It’s the glazed expression on the parched face of a desert pilgrim who discovers the oasis is not a mirage.
We’ve tried to make a science out of worship; we can’t do that. We can’t do that any more than we can sell love or negotiate peace. Worship is a voluntary act of gratitude offered by the saved to the Savior, by the healed to the Healer, and by the delivered to the Deliverer. If you and I can go days without feeling an urge to say “thank you” to the One who saved, healed, and delivered us, then we’d do well to remember what He did.