Sometimes
Sometimes I enter your house Lord
And it’s not where I want to be
I don’t feel like lifting my hands
Or singing praises to your name
I don’t want to hear the preacher
Preach a message about God’s grace
I want the service to be over
So I can be on my way
But as I sit in the sanctuary
And I begin to meditate
I think about all you’ve done
And how you saved me by your grace
And as I think about you Lord
The tears begin to slowly fall
As the iciness within my heart
Begin to melt from your son’s warmth
So I slip my hand to heaven
And begin to praise your holy name
Because Lord I do realize
This you do require of me
You want me to praise you
When I feel like and when I don’t
To deny the natural man
And tune in to only you
As I tune into your frequency
You begin to speak to me
You let me know that you are pleased
With my sacrificial praise
By the time I leave the service
My attitude is totally changed
And I wonder within myself
“why didn’t I want to praise God’s name?
by Bernadine J. McIntosh
January 2005
No comments:
Post a Comment