When fear tries to quiet your voice, allow God’s presence to speak to your spirit. It knows it was made to rise.
That truth has followed me into ordinary moments, nudging me before I even realise Holy Spirit is drawing me close.
Every day, God shows Himself faithful. Gratitude rises without warning. Worship slips out of me long before I think to filter it. You might know those moments too, when something true rises before you’ve had a chance to shape it.
Back when my powerchair still worked, it gave me a kind of freedom I didn’t take for granted. I’m grateful for that season now. I relished those days. I rolled through warm afternoons, ran errands on my own schedule, and felt the wind on my face. The powerchair was a gift for a season. I carry that gift with gratitude rather than loss.
Somewhere along the mature, tree-lined sidewalks of my older neighbourhood, a worship song would usually find its way to my lips. A powerchair has no walls to hide behind. It has no windows. There’s no illusion of privacy. Whatever my heart was singing, the air carried it. Maybe you’ve felt that mix of freedom and self-consciousness in your own way.
I’ve been told I can carry a tune. Even so, I often quietened down when someone came close enough to hear me. One bright autumn afternoon, I cut myself off mid-phrase—“Oh praise Him… Oh Pr—”—because an elderly woman glanced my way. An old memory surfaced in an instant.
When Fear First Showed Up in My Worship
As a teenager, fresh from a youth retreat that set my heart ablaze, my best friend and I walked the halls of our high school whisper-singing:
“Shout from the highest mountain
The praises of our God…”
We wanted to shout it for real, but fear of being seen as weird kept our voices low. Later that day, we laughed at ourselves as we belted out the chorus while walking to the bus stop. We didn’t care who heard. Freedom over the fear of man has a sound. That day, we tasted it fully.
Decades later, rolling along on my powerchair, I realised that some of that same hesitation still lingered. My heart wanted to pour out worship in the open air. Yet the fear of being judged tried to turn the volume down. It was a familiar tug of war, and I wonder if you’ve wrestled with that same tension? Perhaps wanting to be bold and unapologetic yet feeling the pull to shrink back.
David’s Undignified Yes to God
David understood that tension, and he refused to bow to it. When Michal scolded him for dancing with abandon before the Lord, he answered with the conviction of someone who valued God’s presence above reputation:
“I will celebrate before the Lord.
I will become even more undignified than this.” (2 Samuel 6)
Worship was never meant to be polite or discreet. It erupts from the deep places where God meets us.
Even now, without the full mobility I once enjoyed, that truth hasn’t changed. My body moves differently these days. I lift my arms in worship, and I’ve even been known to ‘recliner dance’ while participating in my church’s live-streamed services. You can’t keep a true worshipper down.
Walking Out Worship When You Still Feel Hesitant
If you’ve ever felt your spirit reaching for God in ways that surprised you, you’re right here with me. I see that hunger in you, even if it feels small or hesitant.
So let’s walk this out together, with no pressure and no performance, just the honest desire to respond to Him.
Let’s take the advice of the Psalmist and make a joyful noise to the Lord, serve the Lord with gladness, and come before Him with joyful singing, no matter where we are. (Psalm 100:1–2)
Until Next Week
©2025 Katherine Walden
Sign up to receive a weekly emailed devotional by Katherine by using the following form.
