(The Worship Series, part 2)
“I felt God’s presence.”
What goes through your mind when you hear someone say that? Whenever I hear others speak of feeling God’s presence, I usually want them to go into more detail. I wonder: how and what do we feel in God’s presence? How do we know that we are feeling Him and not just our own emotions? What does it really mean to sense His presence?
These questions are not easy to answer. I can only draw from my own experience, and even then I must use metaphors that may not make sense to you, depending on your own experience.
I have sensed God’s presence in many different ways. Sometimes, when praying and worshiping with others, it felt like an unseen Presence was hovering in the room over our heads. Other times it has felt like being submerged in an ocean, the surroundings muted, a quiet peace within and around, a sense of anticipation stirring in the air. There have been times when it felt like soaring to heaven and joining with the saints and angels there in jubilant praise. Still other times (and this has usually been when I’m alone) it has felt like He is right here with me, almost as if He would step out of the air at any moment and make Himself visible.
In God’s presence I have felt peace, hope, comfort, and joy. I have been inspired, convicted, strengthened, and always, loved.
Oh, it’s so hard to describe. I have come to believe that God’s presence is one of those things that shows the limits of words. As powerful and beautiful as words are, there are times when they fail to reach the heights to which they aspire. Perhaps God’s presence is something that cannot be contained or captured by words; it must be experienced to be understood.
wordless worship
There’s no need to say a thing when I’m before You / In this silence, I feel refreshed with peace / Break this noise that binds the voice that tries to speak / Open my eyes to see Your gracious, sovereign reach // It’s hard to talk when I feel that You are near / When all is quiet, it’s the beauty that I hear / This hidden place where I know that You’ve calmed my fears / I know that You’ve washed my tears
— Jason Wade, Ron Aniello, and Jeremy Camp, “When You Are Near”
Where did we get the idea that we always need to use words in worship? It is possible to worship without words. As with the breathless awe of a soul amazed before the majesty of the Creator displayed in the grandeur of towering mountains or the wonder of a soul overwhelmed with delight at the beauty of one of His hand-painted sunsets. As with the tears of someone in pain so deep they can do little more than cling to God with what little strength they have left. As with the stillness of a soul who knows who God is and who she is and is satisfied with both. It is only in the empty spaces, where we have stopped striving, that God can enter in. It is only in the quiet spaces, when we have finally stopped talking, that the Lord can speak to us. We can only hear His voice if we are intentionally listening. We must be silent to hear Him speak. We must be still to know that He is God.
When I worship, I would rather my heart be without words than my words be without heart.
— Lamar Boschman
getting physical
As we move on to physical expressiveness in worship, I want to acknowledge that depending on your background, this aspect of worship might seem unnecessary or feel awkward. That’s okay. I understand, and I can relate. I’m still growing in this area. As someone who has roots in Pentecostalism, where physical expressiveness in worship is strongly encouraged; has spent years in more conservative parts of the church, where physical expression in worship may be allowed but is not encouraged;1 and now finds herself in a church that lands somewhere in the middle, I believe that physically expressing worship is good and want to be more physically expressive, but find it a bit unnatural sometimes, especially when others are around. I’m finding that it becomes more natural with practice, though.
Bodily expressing worship is a Scriptural practice. The Bible mentions various postures in worship: kneeling (Psalm 95:6), bowing (Ephesians 3:14), dancing (Psalm 149:3), clapping (Psalm 47:1), and lifting one’s hands (Psalm 63:4), to name some. Some may be more suitable for some people than others, and since we are each unique, I think there is room for different ways of physically expressing worship so long as they are not taken to an unhealthy or ungodly extreme.
That being said, each posture portrays something special, so we want to remain open to all of them even if we don’t participate in all forms on a regular basis. Kneeling, bowing, and similar postures express humility and reverence before our King; dancing and clapping express joy and gladness. Raising one’s hands is a simple expression layered with meaning: it can symbolize many things. As Annie F. Downs writes, “We communicate so much nonverbally. When we lift up our hands to God, we’re not only worshiping him, we’re reaching out to him and expressing our need for him. . . . There are so many different emotions you can express by lifting up your hands. No matter what your heart is feeling, it’s good to lift up your hands to God. To praise him, to worship him, to cry out to him, to give up our problems to him.”2
I want to emphasize that certain postures in worship are not better than others. It doesn’t make you more spiritual if you kneel in prayer rather than remaining seated. Being physically expressive in worship is not about impressing others—it’s not supposed to be a show.
The little ones and the lowly ones lead the way here. Little ones are young enough to not yet care what others think and so are free to be who God has made them. Lowly ones know their deep need for God and aren’t afraid to admit it. The one who has been forgiven much loves much (Luke 7:47). Both are so attuned to God that they aren’t self-conscious. They are the ones who love loud and live unafraid, and we can learn a lot from them.
It’s the state of the heart and the position of the spirit that matter most, so a heart that is free and a spirit that is humble are all we need to let our bodies express what we feel in a way that honors God.
Sometimes when words fade and thoughts flee far away, a posture can say it all.
The sweetest sound . . . the highest praise / Is the letting go . . . of this life You gave / Our greatest prayer . . . our act of faith / Is an open hand . . . Lord have Your way / / Take it all―every hope, every dream, every plan / Take it all―every weight, all the shame and brokenness / Jesus, I surrender all, every victory and loss / Take it all, take it all till all I have is open hands
— Laura Story and Seth Mosley, “Open Hands”
tool of transformation
Being submerged in God’s presence changes us. Just as you don’t plunge into the ocean and emerge the same, you don’t spend time in God’s presence without being changed. There we come face to face with our need and His all-sufficiency, our sin and His holiness, our fear and His love. The distance between who we are and who He is spans an unfathomable gap. Still He invites us to come and seek Him and become His. Being in His presence satisfies us and leaves us craving more. When we worship, our perspective is transformed. Peace replaces fear. Joy comes in the midst of sorrow. Hope shows up in the dark. We become more of who God wants us to be.
One powerful effect of corporate worship is a deep sense of unity. When you’re worshiping with fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, you’re not focused on your problems with them. You are one with the body, the Bride, and you are focused on the singular aim of worshiping the Lord. Since the focus is on Him and not on each other, it’s easier to overlook one another’s faults and shortcomings. (If only we could stay in that state always!)
Worship changes us. Let me restate that. God changes us, and worship is one of the ways He accomplishes that.
feels like
So what does God’s presence feel like? Words fall so short. His presence is at times like a storm, at times like a cloud, at times like a fire, at times like … so many things. One thing is sure―for the believer, His presence is always home.
Worship is the act of the abandoned heart adoring its God. It is the union that we crave. Few of us experience anything like this on a regular basis . . . But it is what we need. Desperately. Simply showing up on Sunday is not even close to worship. Neither does singing songs with religious content pass for worship. What counts is the posture of the soul involved, the open heart pouring forth its love toward God and communing with him. It is a question of desire.
Worship occurs when we say to God, from the bottom of our hearts, “You are the One whom I desire.”
— John Eldredge
I have asked one thing from the Lord; it is what I desire: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, gazing on the beauty of the Lord and seeking him in his temple.
— Psalm 27:4 (CSB)




Hannah, this is a beautiful and thought-provoking reflection. I often find myself worshiping while digging into God’s words! His words fuel my worship and also provide the means of worship when I turn them back to him. ❤️
Yes, I love that so much! Thanks, Cheryl!