"Raise a Hallelujah" - Broken Worship Angels Series
If you've ever had to do it then you know. You know the power of lifting your hands in worship and surrender in the midst of your struggle and right smack in the eye of your storm. Borrowed from the beloved worship song of the same name, this angel reminds us to "raise a hallelujah" and to let our praises "roar" trusting God to bring beauty from the ashes. As with all the broken worship angels, she reminds us that God brings the beauty from the brokenness and our job is to praise and trust Him with whatever shred of faith we have left even with broken, feeble attempts to offer Him praise.
(A copy of the story above comes with your angel.)
Title: "Raise a Hallelujah"
4x4 inches / 1.25 inch depth
Acrylic, paper and glitter on Canvas with Gloss Varnish Clear Coat
Every angel is dedicated to my personal hero, my Grandma Mary. When you purchase an angel, you get a tribute card to her telling you how awesome she was and why every time I see an angel I think of her.
This angel is part of my Broken Worship Angel Series and also comes with a card explaining the concept of the series below:
Tearing hymns apart from my old college hymnal and I realize I’m ripping haphazardly. Usually I’m deliberate, cutting out specific words, entire phrases and lines from hymns. But not this time. Instead, none of them are tearing in complete sentences and some are just words, some are just music notes. I feel this touch of regret at my method as I look around at the jumbled mess of words on my workspace. And then it hits me.
This is it.
This is what real actual worship looks like, feels like, sounds like. Half sentences. Descriptions of God. A melody interrupted. Torn up offerings. One word prayers when all of life feels disjointed and you can’t make sense of any of it. Broken Worship. That’s all we really have to offer.
As the shreds of paper are glued down to form angel wings, paint and glitter and gold are laid on them, and they begin to look like something other than forgotten bits of old hymns. They begin to look beautiful. And again, I’m reminded this is what God does. Over and over. He takes what little we have to offer and He makes sense of it, makes beauty out of it. Sometimes in midst of our brokenness, He shows us our greatest strength. When we offer worship in the midst of our brokenness, those are often the times we find the deepest joy.... the kind that is forged through sorrow, confusion and most of all, brokenness. And working through that brokenness, we one day find He has given us wings to fly again.
I hope you are reminded that your broken worship is precious to God and He is always making what’s broken, beautiful, when we let Him.