i've got a FEVER...

...99.7 to be exact. I presume it was closer to 102 last evening before I began a regular diet of O.J. and ibuprofen. Convulsing in my bed for hours, I would begin resting soundly, only to be shaken every three hours by aching bones and a sweating forehead.

I make a joke of how rarely I get sick. Everything belonged in my mouth as a preschooler: from quarters to toes to a spilled drink on the table. Enduring a laundry list of infections through elementary school, I suddenly grew healthy. I theorize that our fixation with anti-bacterial products is sentencing today's youth to a lifetime of weak immune systems.

Fevers have become such a rare occurrence that I can remember my last two. In eighth grade, I returned from a bowling outing with my friend's church when I began shaking uncontrollably. In college, a weekend visit to my parents' house was ruined by shivers while watching The Matrix. The circumstances were far from mysterious, but God used both occurrences to speak.

In between chatters, I asked God what He wanted. I've hidden from His presence the past couple months, and replaced Him with an idol. It began innocently enough, but I have recently made intentional efforts to place Him second in my life, and this has given Satan a foothold.

God offered one instruction in response: "Worship me."

My jaw strengthened as I managed the first song that came to mind...

Oh God, you are my God
And I will ever praise you
Oh God, you are my God
And I will ever praise you
I will seek you in the morning
And I will learn to walk in your ways
And step by step you'll lead me
And I will follow you all of my days

I have a confession: I haven't felt much like worshiping for a couple years. I haven't purchased a single volume of inspirational literature, nor have I browsed the worship racks at a Christian bookstore. As God began placing my faith practices on the scales, worship was the last to be evaluated, and now has been the last to be redeemed.

When I first began this journey, I would drive 25 minutes from my apartment in Kansas City to the nearest Family Christian to keep up with the latest tracks. Separated from a functional Body, I visited an alternative church on Sunday evenings for the opportunity to sing, take communion, and shake hands with the person next to me.

I am certain that God deserves our worship, thus if He desired to strip it of its usefulness, He intends to redeem it with something pure. Shortly before leaving KC, I placed my familiar sacrifice before Him, only for Him to inquire if I thought He was hungry (Psalm 50).

God began to redeem my other practices (service, discipleship, prayer, Sabbath, communion...love), but He never gave me worship. I confessed to my church that the words seemed hollow. What was once the lifespring of my faith suffered abandonment. I trusted my brothers and sisters when they were led to worship, but I never initiated it and never requested it. I couldn't figure out how to flip the switch.

This from the guy that revolved his social life around collegiate choir, led worship in multiple ministries and camps, and acted awkwardly humble when others complimented his voice -- even while fighting his flesh not to intentionally impress. The voice of my praise became strangely silent.

It feels as if God will no longer allow my words of praise to be in contradiction with my love for other idols. Perhaps on this occasion, God is less concerned with redeeming a facet of the church, and more interested in calling me to His Lordship. I can scrutinize the corporate experience that Americans hold dear, but this does not rid me of what should be a natural desire to praise. If He would have the format redeemed, that's fully on His shoulders. But aside from this redemption, He would still have me praise with an honest and willing heart.