I Don't Like Horses

I've had a bit of a strange week this week. The lovely Laura Robin filled in for me last Monday because I was on holiday. I was volunteering at a children's horseriding Bible camp. That sounds an odd mix but it worked really well. We spent the days at the stables, with lunchtime Bible studies and evening worship meetings and activities. The kids had a great time. For most of us, it was a holiday that combined all the best things in life. But not for me.

You see, the problem is... I don't like horses. Not just that they're smelly and I kind of got bored after a while, but I was absolutely genuinely terrified of them. Luckily I wasn't expected to ride one, but I didn't even want to go near the things.

Now don't get me wrong. I enjoyed every minute of the camp that didn't involve horses. Even some of the horse-filled minutes, once I got a bit braver and was willing to stroke their noses and groom them a little bit, were kind of fun. And the people, the people were all amazing and I loved being with them. But there is no way that I would choose to spend my holidays at a stable.

So what on earth was I doing there, I hear you ask. And rightly so. I wondered that a couple of times myself. It would take too long to explain the complicated chain of events that led to me working on a horseriding holiday, but the short version is this:

That's where God wanted me to be.

Another strange part of my week was church on Sunday morning. 
Now let me just explain something before I continue...
> How you know you've won a normal argument:
You get the outcome that is most convenient and of greatest benefit to you.
> How you know you've won an argument with another Christian:
You get the outcome that is least convenient to you and of greatest benefit to the other person.

So a Catholic, a Protestant and a Whatever-I-am decide to go to church together. And I totally won this argument. We ended up at a High Anglican church about an hour away from my house, complete with incense and sung responses. No offence meant to anybody, but it was weird. So totally different from the way I'm used to church being.

I must admit that, to most people, my church is the weird one. But it's what I'm used to. To me, it's normal. So when I went to this one yesterday morning, it felt strange. I mean, I knew God was still there and everything, but it was hard to... connect. I found it awkward doing church their way. I so much more enjoy worshipping my way.

But worship is not for me to enjoy. I mean, yes, God wants us to praise Him joyfully. And usually I do enjoy it. But that's not its purpose. Its purpose is to bring pleasure and glory to Him. It's not about whether we're using our preferred version of the liturgy, or if the music is in our favourite style. It's about Him.

So that brings me back to my original point. It's great when God asks us to do things that we want to do anyway. I love singing and so I love it that He's put me in a choir. But what about when He sent me to the stables? Can I turn round and say actually I don't want to follow Him there?

It's easy to de-spiritualise the tasks we don't want to do. God is in church and in the happy time I spent in the park, but is He in the hoovering and the stressful journey to work and in the children who wouldn't go to sleep til midnight? Of course He is. Your whole life is a service to the Lord, not just the things you choose to dedicate to Him. Go out and live your life as if every second of it is for Him. The washing up, the arduous report, whatever it may be. Because if we give our lives over to God, we mean all of it.

Maybe I don't like horses. But I love Jesus more.