Sunday, April 01, 2007

Misunderstanding so often
and given to a secret scoffing,
I can not grasp the methods of worship.
I'm confused in seeing those
with hands up high and eyes closed,
singing out with face up.
Being one well-practiced
in more than just lip service,
I imagine I know better,
but song and dust-realm striving -
no dignity surviving -
may just be the payment of a debtor.
I forget our price, our cost
and that old beloved cross;
I see hands reaching heavenward,
voices singing to be heard,
and with these raised
I realize you are worthy of this praise;
you are worthy of our praise.

2 comments:

Stacey said...

Beautiful poem Matt. I had an experience yesterday at a church where I really felt God while worshiping him and letting the music and lyrics soak in. He deserves my praise, more often than I give it. I was encouraged to wait on the Lord in the quiet. He is worthy of my time and praise.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful poem, Matt. I myself am a poet, and I love reading the works of fellow writers, especially when their work is written for Him. I have felt this way before.. often when I have lost God in my day to day actions.. when I have forgotten Him.. I'll go to church.. and see others worshipping.. and it can be hard... standing there, seeing others worship Him, and not have a heart of worship myself.. but when I quiet my thoughts and lift my soul to Him, I realize, He is indeed worthy of praise, despite my forgetting of Him.
Continue writing for Him,
~Shandi