Behind me I could hear him singing out of tune and off beat.
I watched the joyful face of a mom, while she watched her little seven year old son jump up and down in front of the platform flapping his hands as fast as he could.
An isle over from me, I could hear the excited screams of the young man in the wheelchair.
Elizabeth sat next to me constantly tapping me to show me her drawing of Jesus.
The young black man on stage, was strumming his guitar and singing with one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard.
Some of the STMs (short term missionaries) were holding their charges, while the moms and dads were singing and swaying to the music.
Margie has downs, there were tears streaming down her face as she worshipped.
There were giggles and squeals, grunts and squirms. Little ones dancing and bigger ones lifting there voices and hands up high.
Even now as I write this, I am still crying. The cacophony of sounds, the visual sight of movement...words cannot describe the most beautiful worship service I have ever been in. Maybe, just maybe, I can grasp a little of what David meant in Psalm 100.
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.Serve the Lord with gladness;come before his presence with singing.Know ye that the Lord he is God;it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves;we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,and into his courts with praise;be thankful unto him, and bless his name.For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting;and his truth endureth to all generations.