I've been leading worship at IHOP for 6 years now. Recently I took a break from my full-time worship leading schedule to pray about how to move forward. I don't have a lot of direction right now, but I feel like the Lord has been prompting me to start identifying the values He has placed in my heart. Sometimes when I feel a little lost, the Lord will send something my way to help me get back on track. Today, it was a download from Heather Clark entitled I Am Loved. Listen to it in the MUSIC section.

I'm inspired by: Heather Clark. A wife, a mother of four, a musician, singer, and songwriter, a dancer and an artist - and all at the same time. She doesn't suspend one expression of her heart to operate in another. She leads worship, will dance during it, paint and have her children join her onstage. And she doesn't seem to be afraid of being judged for it. She said once,

"I was talking with David Ruis when I was visiting in California. He was talking about the tribes of the earth that are experiencing revival and as we were talking I began to think about what I really believe about the glory of God and where it is found. It is found in healing, in demons being cast out, where salvation is being manifest, where the priests can’t stand to minister, but it’s also found in the face of the poor, in the relationship between a father and son where you see the father just cheering on his son. It is found at 3:00am when I am awake rocking my babies in my arms and pouring out my offering. For me worship is not compartmentalized - we worship here but not over there. No, for me the worship I display folding 6 people’s worth of laundry or cutting 80 little kid nails is just as beautiful and valid as the worship that I pour out on a stage for thousands of people. "

I feel like I'm friends with Heather even though we've never met. The Dark Yet Lovely album played constantly on repeat when I first came to IHOP in 2002, and I remember reading in the liner notes that she was inspired by Mike Bickle's Song of Solomon teaching: she just felt like family. And a song called "Price of Love" on a compilation absolutely wrecked me. "I have known the price of love. Given all I have for a moment's time with you. I have died a thousand times, and I have learned to be free."

What I'm learning about myself from what I see in Heather Clark: My life of worship is more than the sum of its parts, or my judgment of its worth.

My dilemma: I'm an extravagant worshiping artist on the inside, but I've become a pragmatic realist on the outside. I have given up many things that are in my heart because I thought they just weren't as valuable to the Lord.

Deep inside, I love creating art. Whether it's painting, sketching, photography, assembling collages with hidden and profound meaning (at least to me) or simply gazing at beauty and taking the time to encounter the Lord in these rare glimpses. My heart comes alive when I am faithful to simply be free to create without casting judgment, on myself or others.

But I have learned to tell myself that experiencing beauty isn't a priority, that it doesn't really matter. That there are many other "important" things to do instead of spending my time in a pile of glue and paper fragments making a collage that 3 people will understand.

I love singing spontaneously - pouring out my worship on the piano in songs that will never be written down. I love singing at the top of my lungs even if it doesn't sound so good. I love corporate worship leading and partnering with the Lord in ministering to people. I love the idea of the true priesthood - ministering to God, ministering to people.

I love that burning in my belly when I know there's a song from the Lord to sing. It usually isn't what I think it would be - all squeaky clean and refined - it's usually raw and piercing like a sword that separates soul from spirit. I usually don't sing it so well. It pulls me to pieces and demands that I come as I really am, not as I think I am or want to be - it places these demands on all within earshot. Heavenly spontaneous songs boldly confront lies in my heart, about God or about me, and require that I replace lies with truth, darkness with light. Whether that truth is disconcerting and uncomfortable or liberating and restorative. I usually wonder if I'm going to get in "trouble" for singing it. And too many times I resist singing out what I feel the Lord whispering, or sometimes thundering, for fear of judgment or rebuke. I love gaining revelation from singing. It happens every time I get into a "flow" - suddenly I understand more clearly what Jesus meant in a passage, what the Lord was doing in my life two months ago, or what the will of God for a present-day decision is. When this "spirit of revelation" comes, I love receiving of it. It's like food I continue to eat the rest of the week, chewing and digesting a weighty revelation.

But I have learned that there's a certain form that people are comfortable with, and I should just work within that framework. I've learned that another round of "Here I am to worship" is easier to read books to and is less disruptive. I have learned that many times we don't want to really hear what the spirit is saying, we just want to hum a nice melody.

If were liberated from the fear of man and fear of judgment, I would love to dance behind the keyboard. I would break out in a joyful twirl, stomping and clapping in a tribal dance and swaying from side to side in worship. I was a dancer when I was younger, ballet, and something about that never left my heart. I feel like a dancer, I look like a dancer, and if you catch me waiting in line at the grocery store, you could appreciate my turnout which I still default to when standing still.

When I'm in "heavenly places" before the Lord in prayer, I don't sing at Him; I dance. Sometimes when I'm alone at home, I'll pull out my toe shoes (that still fit by the way) put on some worship music and twirl around on the wood floors in the living room. And if you've ever caught me in a rare but free moment in the prayer room, I have braved the censure to extravagantly dance in the "dance square" - maybe for a moment or two if it was empty. I love pouring out my heart before the Lord; the raw, the vulnerable, the authentic, but all too quickly judgment sets it. Either my own judgment of myself, or the fear of being judged by somebody else. I wouldn't dance behind the keyboard, I'm too afraid of judgment. I hardy dance in my own house because I know that I'm really "not that good" at it.

Hearing from Heather inspires me to challenge these responses of fear and judgment. I see that she's found a liberty that I long to walk in. Not only do I long to, but I have been invited by the Lord Himself. I know that He's called me with an anointing that breaks the yoke. Unfortunately right now I just need to experience that first in my own life.