The core of worship: giving thanks

A verse in 2 Samuel 22 has been echoing in my heart lately. It says, “He brought me out to a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me” (CSB). The Common English Bible translation shifts the second half to the present tense: “He brought me out to wide-open spaces; he pulled me out, because he is pleased with me.” For months, I’ve found myself returning to this verse, almost yearning for God to bring me into such a spacious place. In this busy world, the idea of a wide-open space where we can breathe, where we can simply be in God’s presence, feels like a distant dream. Yet, it’s a dream that God himself has placed within us.

Life, we all know, is busy. Our schedules are packed, with demands, deadlines, responsibilities, and expectations coming at us from every direction. It’s all too easy to become so focused on simply surviving—or even thriving—in this busyness that our time with God gets squeezed out. We may relegate worship to a scheduled slot on Sunday mornings between 9 and noon, just one more item on our to-do list. But that’s not God’s desire for us. Not even close. He created us to worship him. Not because he’s egotistical or needs our praise, but because he loves us, his creation, so deeply that he delights in us and wants us to spend time with him. Just as a parent delights in their child’s company, our Heavenly Father yearns for connection with us.

I believe God wants us to find, yearn for, and create space and margin in every hour of every day to worship and thank him. He wants worship to be as natural and necessary to us as breathing. Regrettably, I can easily fall into the trap of letting my schedule dictate my life. If I let it define me, I become a prisoner to a calendar and a schedule. It is up to me—up to each of us—to create space and margin to worship God within life’s busy expectations.

This has been both convicting and liberating. It’s forced me to take a hard look at how I structure my days and where my priorities truly lie. Am I letting the world’s demands crowd out my time with God? Or am I intentionally carving out moments, however brief, to connect with my Creator?

Part of my Sunday morning job is making sure everything is ready at the start of each service. This includes making sure the pastors have everything they need for what they’re going to say and do during the service. I’ve developed the habit of waiting in the wings of the chancel for one service to end so that I can prepare for the next. During that time, I am by myself, waiting, as the last song is being sung. Lately, that margin, that literal space, is where I have had some of my most meaningful moments of worship. God brought me to that spacious place, and I met him there with so much love and gratitude. My worship in those moments is raw and real and visceral—exactly what God created me to do.

I’ve come to crave those moments in the wings. Actually, I’ve come to crave those spacious moments in general and have been evaluating my day-to-day schedule to create space and margin to worship my creator in all aspects of my life. When I have the honor of praying with volunteers before a worship service, I always include in my prayer—to remind myself—what an absolute privilege it is that we are able to come before the most Holy God. The God of all creation loves me so incredibly much that he lets me come before him in deeply intimate moments of worship. I never, ever want to take that for granted.

This has been transformative. Instead of viewing worship as an obligation or a scheduled event, I’ve begun to see it as a precious gift—an invitation to intimacy with God. It reminds me that the Creator of the universe, who hung the stars and set the planets in motion, wants a personal relationship with me. I’ve begun to look for ways to create “spacious places” in my everyday life. It’s not about adding more to my already full schedule. It’s about reframing the moments I already have, seeing them as opportunities for connection with God. I can take a few minutes in the morning to sit in God’s presence before starting my day, use my commute time to talk to God about my worries and joys, or take a moment in the middle of my workday to express gratitude. I’m learning that worship doesn’t have to be confined to a church building or a specific time.

As I’ve intentionally sought to create these spacious places in my life, I’ve noticed that the more I worship, the more I want to worship. These moments of connection with God seem to expand my capacity for more of Him. And regular worship changes how I view the world around me. Challenges that once seemed insurmountable now become opportunities to trust God more deeply. Blessings that I might have overlooked now become reasons for gratitude and praise.

My worship journey is far from perfect. There are still days when, caught up in busyness, I forget to pause and enter God’s presence. But it’s not about perfection—it’s about intention and desire. God’s invitation to worship isn’t a burden; it’s a gift. It’s an opportunity to step out of the confines of our busy lives and into the spacious place He has prepared for us. It’s a chance to remember who we are and whose we are.

My prayer—for myself and you reading this—is that God would help us by bringing us into those spacious moments all throughout our days so that we can spend time with Him. May we learn to create margin in our lives, not just for our own sake, but to deepen our relationship with the One who delights in us. In the end, worship isn’t about a ritual or checking a box on our spiritual to-do list. It’s about cultivating a heart that is always open to God’s presence, always ready to respond to His love with gratitude and praise. It’s about living our entire lives as an offering to the One who gave everything for us.