Palms outstretched in offering,
Bowing low, I meet my king.
In humility, I sing.
In the market, in the square,
Souls surround me. You are there.
Though I move, you hear my prayer.
In the darkness cold and still,
As I sit against my will,
I look up and you fulfill.
Through the music and the word,
Worship serves to undergird.
I receive and I am heard.
May my posture ever be
Tempered by eternity
As I learn to walk with thee.
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash
Thanks to Maci for suggesting the title and topic of this poem.
When I was little, I remember praying with my head bowed, my eyes closed, and my hands together. Prayer, at that point, seemed tied to posture, as if a change in posture might lessen the validity of the prayer. At least, that’s how my little mind viewed the situation. As I grew, I learned that one could pray without folded hands, without a bowed head, and even without closed eyes. Such discoveries brought a newfound freedom to my prayer life, yet they also became opportunities for the flesh as I began to self-righteously look down on others who still maintained the posture of the early days of prayer. I thought that I’d grown beyond the need for such posture, that I’d grown so mature in my relationship with the Lord that posture and setting became concerns of the past. I’m beginning to reconsider the importance of posture, however. Continue reading →