Thoughts On Prayer (January 7, 2011)

I’m not certain that there is an official category for me, but I’m “one of those” people who find it easier to sing my prayers than to speak them, or write them, or silently think them. Like I said, there may not be a category for that. For years I’ve tried to say my prayers before bed, and I fall asleep. Or I’ll try to pray in the shower or on the car ride to work, but the worries of the day pull my mind away (you’d think they might help me focus, but no). I’m not much of a morning person (coffee ruins me…) so waking up early to pray seems like a discipline I don’t really want to adapt.

My Dad and I had a good relationship but unfortunately, neither one of us were big talkers. When I went to college, he wrote me a letter. I had never heard him say some of the things that he was able to write in that letter. I responded with one of my own. It opened up an incredible avenue of communication that I never had with my Dad. We could both write things in those letters that we couldn’t say verbally. Because of those letters, there was nothing left unsaid between us before he passed away. For me, those exchanges were life-changing. In similar fashion, discovering the avenue of prayer that works for me has had a monumental impact.

I figure that I’ve been old enough to pray and to understand the concept for a solid 20 years give or take. We’ll call it 20 years. I discovered that singing my prayers is how I communicate best with God. Sadly, I didn’t discover that until about 5 years ago. Based on that, I’ve spend 15(give or take) years failing at praying.

Oh dear dear dear;  Collin, you can’t actually fail at praying.

I disagree.

 I think the only way to fail at praying is to give up on trying. 

I’m sure that I prayed with my mom before bed as a child and I’m sure that I prayed before the big high school soccer game, but I know that I never developed a consistent pattern of prayer. In that way, I feel like I dropped the ball (I played goalie, we lost in the state finals my junior and senior year but it’s ok, I don’t have nightmares about it to this day…). Back to prayer. I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to find out what works. Maybe I just got bored with reciting a laundry list of items to God. Maybe I thought that enough other people were praying that I didn’t have to. Maybe I got caught up in trying to show God that I could pray properly and use awesome Christian jargon to impress Him.

Sometimes we get caught up trying to make sure God hears our prayers or is impressed with them because we say all the right things. If you think about it, God Almighty, the Creator of the Universe isn’t going to be impressed by what vocabulary you use or exactly how you pray, and we don’t have to try to impress him. He’s already crazy about us.

I’m grateful that I found my avenue of prayer. I challenge you to do the same.


Just remember,

God Almighty is crazy about you.

More Salt (December 21, 2010)

Sometimes I feel like that girl from the Willy Wonka movies (Veruca Salt, I looked it up...), the girl that wants and wants a wants. "I want a golden goose!" I know that it is only human to want, it's natural. Clearly, Miss Salt went about her urges in the wrong manor. She was a bad egg and ultimately went down the shaft that the other bad eggs went down, but she's not completely in the wrong just for having desires right? It would be abnormal to not desire things, to not have goals and dreams. I think it boils down to why we want what we want. The comparison between Veruca and I ends at the wanting.

I'm fortunate enough to have a reliable, enjoyable job, especially with today’s economic uncertainties. Most of you who read this will likely know that I'm a full time worship arts pastor. It's a job that I had dreamed of since in was in 5th grade and started learning guitar from my Dad. I went through middle school and joined the youth worship team. I wanted more. I went through ninth and tenth grade playing with the youth team and the adult team on Sundays. I always wanted more. By my junior year I was asked to lead the Sunday morning worship team each week. I didn't have to pick out songs or organize the team or schedule volunteers. I still wanted more. I went off the Oklahoma to do the college thing and I got a part time job as a youth worship leader at a church in Tulsa. I definitely wanted more. A few months later, the worship pastor moved on to his next chapter and I was asked to step up and become the worship pastor. For the next several years, I had all I could handle and believe me, I didn't want any more!

Today, I'm over four years into my "dream job," and I find myself wanting more. What does that mean? What more could I want when I am doing what I've dreamed of doing for years? I think back on when I first started at this position and all that I have learned. The learning didn't stop after one or two or three or even four years, it happened and still happens all the time. What I'm saying is, God is teaching me and growing me right here where I am. My desire for more is not tied to a desire to work somewhere else or to get paid more money. My desires stem from wanting to have a bigger impact. I want to be great at what I do. I want to lead multitudes into the presence of God. I want to write songs that bring glory to God. I want I want I want! Let's go back to Veruca, she wanted for selfish reasons. She wanted for her own good. I want so badly to expand what God does through me, not for me.

I recognize that my gift is not talent. I don't see myself as an above average anything (guitar player, singer, song writer), but when I focus on worship and on exalting the One who made me for this purpose, that's when I find my purpose and strength. A good friend of mind told me that what I have is far different than talent; it's a gift and a calling from the Most High God. I don't say that to pat myself on the back. I am firmly against self-promotion, especially when my job is to reflect any and all attention away from me to where it belongs. So how could I possibly want more? How could I justify my longing to be used more, and how can I go about seeking ways to be used more? Or do I?

I struggle with these thoughts almost constantly. In truth, I get so focused on appearing to be humble that I've become prideful of my humility. "Great worship today Collin, awesome set." I hear it enough to have perfected the response; I look down at my shoes, sag my shoulders in an effort to shrink myself as much as possible before saying something like... "Thank you, I do my best" or "Amen brother, hallelujah" (ok i've never said that and if I do, feel free to kick me in the shin). The point is, I've gotten really good at taking zero credit, so good that I am really proud of myself. I'm pretty certain that my responses are appropriate, but my motive is to appear self-less, not to give God glory. It's a balancing act that I've gotten too good at. No more. That was a bit of a rabbit trail, but it’s all part of the thought process for me.

In my heart of hearts, I want God to use me for greater things and I really and truly don't want the credit. I know that God has given me dreams and goals, but not to distract me. So yes, I want more. More can be right here, more can mean so many things. Wanting is good, it can push me out of my comfort zone. It can force me to work harder. It can push me in new directions, but that’s only ok if it’s His direction, not mine or ours. For now I’ll focus on worshipping, writing, and serving with all of my heart, as working for the Lord.

“…And whatever you do, work at it with all of your heart as working for the Lord and not for men. – Colossians 3:23

Goldfish? (May 5, 2010)

Take a good look around, our lives are full of things we can worry about! We can worry about our jobs, our families, our finances, vehicles, and the list goes on. It's pretty amazing to me that I worry as much as I do. I can think back one month, two months, six months, a year, and it seems like I was always worried about something. The interesting thing about that is this; my worries were very different six months ago than they were last week and yet here I am this week with everything I need. I forget so quickly. I forgot that six months ago I was worried about how I would get home to New Hampshire for the holidays, that worked out. I feel like a goldfish... let me explain. It may be a myth, but I've heard that goldfish, in all their splendor and golden-ness, (i made a word up) have only a memory span of about five seconds. I feel that way sometimes, but it's only after the fact when I have time to reflect on what just happened. Recently I've been worried about reliable transportation. My former car was a good vehicle but it sucked gas down like Joey Chestnut and his hot dogs ( 64 hot dogs and buns in 60 minutes). It was bad, and any time anything happened to it, repairs were out the wazoo. My goldfish-like self forgot how God had provided for me. I forgot that a year and a half ago, I got rear ended and my 5 speed truck got totaled. I forgot how badly I needed a car and how faithfully God provided for my needs then. Present day... once again, God provided for my needs, and once again I feel like a goldfish. This time around, I'm hoping I can take it to the next level, maybe a koi fish (30 second memory), who knows. All that I really know at this moment is this; God sees all of creation. God gives birds everything that they need for food and shelter. He gives bison nice thick winter coats to shield them from harsh winters. He gives you and I everything that we need. I'm tired of being a goldfish. Why worry? He's proven himself before and He will continue to do so, EVERY-SINGLE-TIME. His ways are not our ways, His timing isn't always ours, but His provision and love is perfect and we can be confident in that, EVERY-SINGLE-TIME.

Look What I Found (March 31, 2010)

I spent the last weekend plus with my family in New Hampshire. Monday, March 29th marked the one year anniversary of my Fathers "move" away from his earthly body. It's hard to imagine how a year could have passed so quickly. The sting is still like it all happened two days ago. It has been especially hard for me; I am the only member of my family who is not in New Hampshire. That has been overwhelmingly difficult to deal with at times. I've dealt with my own guilt for not being there for my mother and little brothers. I've been dealing with the sorrow of not being able to visit my Fathers grave site. I've had times when I've wanted nothing more than to be around my family and aside from a few days every 4 months, it's not possible. It's been heartbreaking. During my most recent visit, I prepared myself for emotional meltdowns and breakthroughs, I was ready to grieve. In my head I thought the visit would be based soley around saying good-bye to Dad again. What I found was vastly unexpected and equally effective. We've been without Dad for a year, and life has continued. Each member of my family has continued, including my wife and I. When I went home, I expected us to all go back to one year ago, but life has moved forward and so have we. Life has moved forward, and we haven't necessarily moved on, but we too have moved forward. So, as i expected to see tears shed and emotion on display, I saw life. I saw two young men (13 and 15) full of joy and living life to it's fullest, playing xbox like normal kids and running outside and thriving. I didn't see two boys who lost their Father at a crucial stage of any childs life. I saw a Mother who desires the absolute best for all her children. I saw a mother who desires so badly to fill the Fatehrless void for her two young sons, and gives them everything she has. I saw her equally content to be their mother, knowing she can't fill certain holes. I saw older brothers both with two young boys, being Fathers themselves, sacrificing and fighting for the very best for their own children. I saw older sisters with lives and homes and families. Life was in abundance. I was really hoping to be able to discard some of the pain and sorrow I try to lock up until the time to let it go is right. The truth is, what I experienced during my visit was incomparably better than what I was hoping for. I see life, I see a family. I see love passed down from a Father who fought for his family. I see his life and his ethics and morals still being lived out, perhaps even more so than ever. Most importanly to me, I have seen that my guilt for not having been there this past year is mine alone. Life has me in Oklahoma and so does the Lord, I know it with all of my heart. This past week I saw a family, my family, living life to the fullest. I believe in doing so, Ian Campbell is honored and remembered. Ne Obliviscaris - Never Forget.

Hope (August 11, 2009)

Every day we face challenges. Sometimes they are the same challenges and
temptations that we have faced for years. At other times, we may encounter
something we've never been faced with before. There is an opportunity in
every challenge, temptation and struggle that we face. Shortly after or even
immediately as we face these challenges, a battle ensues. For every obstacle that we face, we make a decision. Of course we don't always make the right ones. To put things in perspective, think back five or ten years or more; try to remember a crucial decision you made then. It could be a good or bad choice. How is your life affected today by the choices you made then? Every day we have a chance to make life for our future selves a little bit better and easier. The bottom line is that our decisions today plant a seed. That seed may take years to grow, it may take minutes to grow. As a child I learned very early on that my decisions had consequences. Good choices were rewarded, bad decisions reaped punishment. Today I have no parents to answer to, nor do I have the small rewards and punishments. Today, you and I have much heavier results for our choices. Proverbs 11 says; "Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free." I wish I could say that I am constantly making good decisions. I am a broken weak individual. My flesh is so weak, and I have no worth and no value and no purpose outside of my life in Christ. Without His love and His mercies that are new every morning, I would have nothing. That is the somber truth. Because of His love and his mercies that are new every morning, I have a life of great worth and of great value through Christ. It is a constant struggle for us. We win many battles and we lose some as well. What would our lives look like if we won say 75 percent of the battles? 85 percent? 95 percent? We are called to be like Christ. When the temptation finds you today and tomorrow and the next day, plant a seed that will reap positive results. God is merciful and loving, but at some point we need to grow and move in the proper direction because of that love and mercy. I challenge you today, try to go the whole day planting only beneficial seeds. Thank God for His love and mercy. 

Legacy (May 12, 2009)

You have probably heard something like this before; "You can't take it with
you." It's a very simple phrase, it's easy to understand, and it’s only six words
long. I don't think any of us actually think for a second that we might be able
to bring our prized possessions with us. To me, it seems like most of the
emphasis is placed on what you can't take with you. We can't take much of
anything, not our possessions, not our families, not even our bodies. All that is fair and it is certainly true, but why don't we start switching that thought process? It's virtually saying the same thing; what can you leave behind? What can YOU leave behind? I'm not talking about leaving your children with a nice inheritance or a piece of land and so on. What legacy are you leaving behind? In recent weeks and months I've been left to think about that question over and over. Since the loss of my Father, I've been in awe of what he left behind, his legacy. In speaking with my mother, she almost always tells me her thoughts on her current situation. "The well of thanks and gratefulness for Ian and his life is deeper than the well of sorrow." That always knocks me off of my feet. How great a man must he have been that his wife of well over three decades is far more grateful for his life than sorrowful for having lost it? 

The legacy my father left behind is one of dedication, compassion, hard work, perseverance 
and most importantly, love. 

I was first reminded of this at his memorial service; over 700 people came to thank him for his life and his legacy. Time and time again in the last month and a half, I've been confronted with the legacy that my Father left behind. What can I leave behind? How can I be as great a man as my Father was? It seems overwhelming, how could I possibly love and provide as wonderfully as my Father did? I don't know the answer to that question. I do know however that deep down inside of me and inside of you is something great. We may not have the same gift of days as the next person, but we still have something that we can leave behind. 

What can you leave for your family, friends, co-workers, acquaintances and so on? Who can you impact that you may not even know, now or ever? What can you do in your sliver of eternity that will last? What can YOU leave behind?

A Week In New Hampshire (April 2, 2009)

On Tuesday March 23rd, while sitting in class, I received a text message from my sister Shaunna. "Have you heard, Dad isn't doing well. Mom wants us all to be at the hospital ASAP." Since my Dad got his liver transplant in 2002 and before, I've gotten used to the idea of my father being sick. He's had many ups and downs over the last seven plus years. I assumed that maybe the urgent text was a mistake and things weren't all that serious. Soon after the text, one phone call, two calls, three calls, all from family members. After leaving class I thought I'd better listen to the voicemails. It wasn't a false alarm, Dad was fading fast. I called my mother, one of the hardest things I've ever had to say came next; "Tell Dad to hang on for me, I'm coming." His kidneys were shot, digestive system shut down, heart dancing all over the place. In the words of my brother Michael, "I'm not sure what somebody needs to survive, but apparently none of those things."
        I arrived at the hospital in Massachusetts Tuesday night around 11:15. I was greeted by my two little brothers whose swollen eyes and raw nose's were masked by excited smiles. I couldn't help but smile myself. They led me to my Dad's room and after giving my mother and remaining siblings a hug or two, they let Vanessa and I have some time alone with my Dad. At this point, my Father had lost the ability to speak normally. This alone brought tears to my eyes. The three of us spent some time saying whatever we needed to. I could see the frustration on my Fathers face as he did his best to say what was on his heart and as I did my best to understand. That was the first time in almost ten years that I thought, my Dad could actually die. I don't think I ever realized the severity of what was going on.
        After spending the night at the hospital, we decided to bring my Father home to spend his remaining time, be it a day or a week at the house that he built. The word somehow got out that he was coming home. On Wednesday, the day he arrived home, he had countless visitors come. At one point, with all of his might, my father leaned up in his bed. "A gallery of people have come to watch me die." He said it three or four times so we could all understand it. Once we figured it out, he looked up to the ceiling and began flapping his arms like a bird. We interpreted it as him flying away to heaven. None the less, we all got a laugh out of it. Even on his death bed, my Dad was making people smile and laugh. Thursday morning, things continued to progress for the worst. Visitors kept coming, and he did his best to entertain them as well. By Friday, his condition had worsened still and we closed the doors on all visitors outside of family. We wanted to protect his dignity and make him as comfortable as possible.
         On Friday, I did something I that I have no memory of ever doing. I curled up on the couch next to my Dad and I rested my head in the little spot between his chest and his arm. Though my Father was unable to speak, I know he was very glad to have his 5th child next to him. While I was lying there, I recounted many happy memories of my Father and me. I thanked him for providing for me, for loving me, for setting a Godly example. I told him everything I could think to tell him. I was finally at peace and I think he was as well. As Friday went on and Saturday came, we all took the time to say everything that we hadn't said yet. We all came to a place where we would have no regrets if he had to go.
         On Saturday night, before I went up to bed, I told my dad that I loved him. I knew in my heart it was the last time I'd be able to tell him that to his face while on this earth. I kissed him on the cheek and went to get some sleep. That night, so many thoughts flooded into my mind. Sleep was impossible. I asked the Lord for healing. I prayed, "If you are going to heal my Dad, please do it soon. If you are not going to heal him, set him free from the pain and release him from the shell that he is in now so that he can be with you." I had such a peace about whatever God would decide to do.
         My father battled, never quit, never blamed anyone, and never shook his fist at God. He never complained. On Sunday morning and 10:15 ET, My Father went home to be with the Lord. You can't prepare yourself for what that is like. Even if you have a few days to see the reality of the situation, there is nothing you can do to prepare for the weight of when it happens. It was and is extremely difficult. My family is so amazing. God gave my Mother seven children for this time. We all rallied around one another, we lifted each other up. We loved one another like I have never seen. My Dad is proud of that, I know.
        On Tuesday March 31st, a memorial service was held in his honor. The church where it was held was not big enough to accommodate all who came to honor and remember him. He was honored that night by all of his children, his grandchildren, his father, his brother, his friends, and most importantly, his wife. In all, almost 700 people came to honor my Father. The Campbell Clan of Scotland is notorious for family and for pride and respect. Our motto is Ne Obliviscaris which translates to "Never Forget." I/We will never forget his life, the way he loved us, and his courage and strength even in death. When I say my Dad is my hero, I mean it with all my heart. If I am half the man my Father was I will consider myself fortunate. 

An Ode To Family and Groceries (February 9, 2009)

Most of my life has been focused around myself. Growing up as the youngest child for 7 years, i was often the focus of attention in my family of what was then, seven. As time went on, two little brothers came around and they may have gained some of that attention but, I never felt like I had lost too much of it. I was the perfect child, All-Star Little Leaguer and above average student. Looking back at myself, I was pretty awesome. I had everything given to me,  including parents who worked hard to raise seven children in the best circumstances possible. When Mom would come home from the grocery store, I along with my siblings would complain about having to help put them away. I procrastinated on my weekly chores and I rarely remembered when it was my dish night. Maybe I wasn't so awesome. Time went by, middle school and on into high school. My above average grades became mediocre, my All-Star status didn't mean much anymore and I still was unaware of the sacrifices being made for my gain. Life kept rolling along. Girls soon became more interesting that sports, not by much but enough to get my attention periodically, or maybe a little more than periodically. With all the high school drama and distractions,  I never caused my parents much greif, and rarely got in trouble at school. I guess it is fair to say I had my strengths and weaknesses. Off to college, away from everything I'd ever known. Naturally, there was the excitement of leaving home and being on my own. The excitement of experiencing some life! My moral compass has always been strong enough for me to avoid the bad situations. Surely that saved me from something terrible more than once. I got a job at a church doing what I love, following my passion. I got a job worshipping my God. How awesome is that? I met the girl, the girl liked me. The "girl" is the most Godly, gentle, sweet and loving human being I have ever known tied with my mother. Next up on the to-do list, marry the girl! It seemed like I had everything together, I actually thought I did too! So let me paint you a picture; All American boy, he had his ups and downs in life but mostly he had ups. He had everything given to him all his life. He went to private school to get a great education. He worked one day a week in high school at dear ol' Dad's limousine business, what a drag. Now that same boy is married, is on his own and is not only depending on himself now but he also has another life he is responsible for. I woke up about a month ago and that picture penetrated every part of me. All my life I've been given everything. My parents raised me and provided me with every opportunity. I came out on top, I can say that with all confidence. Life has come at me unbelievably fast and it's struck me fairly hard. Two things could've happened next, I simply could have folded under the pressure or I could take example from my parents, from my family. What did happen is this, an overwhelming sense of gratitude and thanks came to me. All my life, I've been given everything. I complained about helping with the groceries, I procrastinated on my chores, and yet I had everything. On my own now with the love of my life, I have decided to be greatful. I have the two most amazing parents who have been examples of love, dedication, determination, perseverance, courage and every good thing. My siblings are closer than most through thick and thin. Here I am, fifteen hundred miles away and it is all with me. My parents are with me, my siblings are with me, it is all right here. Now it is me; I go to the grocery store, check for the lowest price, load up the cart, pile it in the trunk, get it into the apartment and store it away. (With the help of my afformentioned best friend.) Ignorance is not bliss, I never knew what my parents, what my family did for me and I wish I had known sooner. It took me being here, starting my own life to realize. The blessing is that all of those qualities, all of the sacrifices are a part of me. Collin Campbell is who his family made him, directed by God. I love my family and I treasure every memory, every laugh, every part inside of me forever.

Philosophy of Worship (December 8, 2008)

For me, spending almost four years here at Oral Roberts University has been the greatest learning experience of my life. I would like to say with ease that the core of my learning has come strictly from the classroom but that would be untrue. What I know today and what I will know ten years from now is not because of any course I took or any on campus affiliation I was associated with. No. For me, the hands on experience that I have gained which stemmed off of Oral Roberts University have far outweighed learning key signatures and scales. I say all of this not to knock on a university or to discredit what this school has done for me and countless others; I say it to establish the fact that the hands on experience far outweighs the learning process. The university equips us students to first learn and then go into every man’s world. That is what is staring me in the face, and that is what I will continue working towards.

            When I was 14 years old, a man prophesied over me. I was on a mission’s trip in the country of Poland. Here I was told that I would lead multitudes into worship. At that point, I knew how to play guitar and I sang a bit. I loved music but I never would have dreamed what I was told that day. Upon my arrival back in the states, I was informed that the worship leader in my church was not going to be leading anymore. My heart nearly sank and leapt all at once. The swirling thoughts in my head seemed to be going a million miles an hour. That very day my pastor called me and asked me if I would take over the worship leading on Sunday mornings! If there had been any doubt in my mind about the prophesy, it was soon gone. Time went by and as a senior in high school, I was leading worship for my church, my youth group and my school. At this point, I’m not sure whether I had become content where I was or if I had lost my vision but, God struck again! The Sunday before I left to come to Oral Roberts University, my pastor prophesied the very words that were spoken over me four years before. The words were not close to the same or almost the same, the words were exactly verbatim of what I had received years earlier. In addition to the prophesy, my pastor also told me that within a year and a half I would be leading worship for a church in Tulsa.

            You can call it coincidence, you can call it luck. Call it whatever you want to call it. In September of my sophomore year here at Oral Roberts University, I began leading worship for a medium sized church called Family Church. God had kept His promises. I’ve shared this bit of back ground not to brag or boast in what I have done or experienced but to state that this is the foundation of my philosophy of worship leadership. Yes I may be young, yes there are certainly many others on this campus even that are far more talented than me. However, God will use those who are faithful to Him and who live lives that are worthy of their calling. “I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, entreat you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, ² with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing forbearance to one another in love,” Ephesians 4:1-2. This scripture has been a measuring stick for me, am I living according to what was spoken over me. Am I living according to the life I have been called to live. I have learned that God will use the humble. He does not promote the proud or the boastful. I’ve learned to boast in the Lord and not to lean on my own strength or ability.

            I am a believer in the idea that God gives gifts to every individual on the planet. We as human beings have the decision and the responsibility to either use our gifting for God or for worldly gain. I’m not saying that riches and money and fame are bad things but, priority one ought to be blessing our heavenly Father. This is the way I see it; God has a plan, He could do it Himself but He chooses to use us. In that regard, not one of us is irreplaceable. Each one of us have our part to do in God’s plan, but if we falter or waste what He has given us He can just as easily move on to the next guy or girl. That is why being humble is so very crucial to me and to anyone working for the Lord.

            This summer I was given the opportunity to go the Saddleback Church in California. My church sent me and our associate pastor on the trip. While I was there in one of the workshops, one of the instructors said two things I will never forget. The first and the most important thing was this; as Christians and worshippers, the greatest thing that we could ever accomplish is to touch the heart of God. Wow! That truth has stuck with me since then. What can I do to touch the heart of my maker? I thought about that for a long time yet the answer is shockingly simple. I can give Him my talents and abilities and serve Him each and every day. The second truth that I was told was that, as a worship leader I cannot expect the worship service on Sunday morning to be any better than the time that I have spent and invested in the Lord during the week. The power of that statement really wrecked me. As a worship leader for my church, there have been far too many weeks that I have been ill prepared and out of touch. Since hearing that, I’ve made it literally part of my job to do come ready each and every Sunday.

          Not long ago in one of my classes I was faced with the question, "What is worship?" I don’t know if my answer is correct, but I think it summarizes my philosophy of worship as well as my answer to that question. I believe that worship can be summed up to this; Wherever we are, whatever we are doing, giving God the greatest sacrifice we can give at that point is the truest and greatest form of worship. Another way to say that would be, no matter what is going on around us or who we are; we still have something to offer to the Lord even if it is just to whisper I love You. Whatever we have to give, giving that is the truest and most precious form of worship. I hear people say many times, things like oh you don’t understand what I’m going through or oh you don’t know what it’s like. Fortunately, I have been blessed to have not experienced many of life’s lows. However, I have had my valleys and I have had my peaks and one thing remains true in all of that. God’s love and sacrifice for me, for us cannot be quenched in my Spirit. I simply have to recognize what He has done and thank Him for it. I thank Him in song and praise and I thank Him through the way I live my life.

            What is my philosophy of worship? I’ve thought and poured over this question for days. In truth, I’ve thought about this question in different forms for years. I think many people try to sing the prettiest and to nail the lead line just perfectly. Others may try to form the best orchestra or formulate the best worship set. All those things are important. Musical excellence is very important. Instruments playing in unison and in rhythmic balance are also crucial. In the story of David’s anointing as king, Samuel looked on all of David’s brothers and thought surely it would be one of them. Yet God chose the least of all the brothers saying, “The Lord sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance but the Lord looks at the heart.” I Samuel 16:7. I am not a philosopher or a theologian but I know what God is pleased by and I know what He detests. Worship is found not in a school or in a church or any institution but true worship is found in the individual who pours out their heart on a daily basis in hopes to bless the Lord of all the earth. The key thing to remember and to keep at the forefront of our minds is this; there is no greater accomplishment that we as worshippers could ever achieve than to bless and touch the heart of God.

            - Collin James Campbell