Someone writing in The Upper Room a few years ago told of a school-days experience when the music teacher drew a profusion of black dots on a white sheet of paper. None of the pupils could make anything of them. Then the teacher drew a few connecting lines, put in a few rests, and a clef at the beginning. It was then seen that the black dots took the form of a musical score. On sounding the notes, the pupils found themselves singing The Doxology: "Praise God from whom all blessings flow ..."

Here in worship we can connect our life's disconnected dots. Daily living is made up of a little of this and a little of that, small events and brief moments that occur now and then along the way. And often it is difficult for us to see that these have any meaning, or, if so, what the meaning is.

In worship we seek a God's-eye view of what we are; we seek to see ourselves as we are seen by him. This is to see our life in perspective and entire - not as a meaningless scattering of random dots on a blank page, but as a musical score that sings "Praise God from whom all blessings flow ..." Then each new day of living, each common task, becomes simply another note in this one majestic song.