How about some “moanng music” on Sundays?

David in the Psalms had the bravado to write it.  Not sure I would have.  That kind of honesty is rare.  David simply penned that when he thought of God, he moaned.  Not rejoiced.  Not praised.  Not worshiped.  Moaned.  Put that in the service order on a Sunday morning!  “Okay, people, let’s moan!”  Instead of praise music, we would have some moan music. 
          But we do moan sometimes when thoughts of God flood in.  How is it, you ask?   
          First, thoughts of God can bring to you remembrance of your sins.  Those two things come together.  It’s a package deal.  To come near Him will at some point alert you to how far off course you have been.  You shudder.  (Remember Isaiah? “Woe is me.”) To avoid your sin, you have to avoid deep encounters with God.  It’s like blowing a diet and avoiding the weight scales.  Just to look at them brings the pain of failure.  You may not throw the scales out of the house, but you don’t put them in the middle of the room either.
          Second, thoughts of God can bring to mind times you really needed Him to come through, and the windows of heaven seemed slammed shut and the doors double-bolted.  God could have spared you all that pain.  God could have delivered you from the years that it took to recoup from some loss.  God could have protected you from that person who did not mean well.  And He didn’t.  To think about God means to think about that time He seemed to leave you vulnerable and hurt.  Trust Him again?  You’re not so sure you have it in you.
          Third, thoughts of God can bring back memories of times when it was better between your soul and the Savior.  You drifted; you grew cold; the light dimmed to dusk.  You long for that day to come again, but now you feel so far away.
          I’m not always sure why David moaned.  But I know this – honest moaning was a way back to God.  Acknowledging the distance, grieving over the sin, facing the disappointment was the way back.  Anything else would have been play religion.  Pretend worship.  Shadow dancing.
          Maybe some Sunday when you are reading the bulletin before the service begins, you will see it there!  A sackcloth and ashes moment right in the order of worship.  The Davids among us whisper, “thank you, God – just what I needed!”