Prayer

Sweet hour of prayer, sang the psalmist
Who had tasted the sweetness of communing with God
In God's eyes, it doesn't matter
Whether our prayers last one hour long
or a said in a few minutes amidst baby's cry
It makes no difference  whether it's uttered on bended knees
standing upright or laying on bed

Posture and position carries no weight
Words of our mouth and songs of our lips
bears no merit
Unless they are offered from the depth of our hearts.
It's our hearts, not utterance in many words
that delights our God in heaven

When we thirst for Him as the deer pants for water
Our knees and hearts would bend down before Him on their own
In awe and adoration, when we approach God
tears would bathe our faces
And words would burst out in utter humbleness
At times, there would be just silence
Perfect stillness-holy and wordless

Prayer is like breath to me
A constant conversation with the Lord
There are times I'm too tired, lazy or not in a mood to pray
And I don't hesitate to tell the Lord how I feel too.
He who knows my strength and weakness more than I know myself
Continues to love me with a Father's tender care

Little do I realize at those times
It's truly me, not Him
Who misses the  blessing of prayer
If I slack in my prayer life
And choose to call on Him only in my need or fear
Then I become a stranger who acquaints Him for my wants
And have no desire to know Him for His want.

(May 18, 2005)