A Parent's Worship

Here we worship
with heads bowed and prayers extending 
past our folded fingertips
raising voices up to that great temple.
“Come to me,” He says, and we do. 

Here we worship
under storied branches, 
boughs hanging low, 
craggy bark the backdrop of our song. 
“Let our voices rise…” we sing, and they do. 

Here we worship
on long and winding paths, 
with wonder in our eyes. 
We check the map, crunching leaves beneath us. 
“Guide us in Your ways…” and He will. 

Here we worship
prayers whispered between each pain,
a warm new body placed on mother’s chest,
little ears that know our favorite hymns.
“She is fearfully and wonderfully made,” He says, and she is. 

Here we worship
round a table, 
prayers over steaming bowls of God’s goodness 
nourishment for earthly bodies. 
“Give us this day our daily bread…” and He will. 

Here we worship
Bleary eyes and morning light
Cast over pages written long ago,
Open wide in spite of interruptions.
“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds” and we will.

Here we worship
up to our elbows in dishwater,
smiling eyes and belly laughs,
dancing in circles in the kitchen.
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart…” and we will.

Here we worship
sweeping floors, 
clearing tables,
turning lights on late at night
Tomorrow’s tasks made lighter for your loved ones.
“Let your light shine in the night time…” and it will. 

Here we worship, 
with weary steps up endless incline,
our bodies moving, moving,
our ragged breath a shout in Your direction. 
“Give me strength,” and we know He will.

Here we worship,
lying in the grass, 
A twinkling story living in the skies, 
toes cool and damp, 
Listening for You in the dim light.
“Let all creation sing your praise.” And it does.

Here we worship. 
Small bodies in our laps, 
A list cast aside, story after story told.
His love touches them through you.
“Let them come to me...” and we know they will.

Here we worship, 
Perched on cushions, 
Piano clunks, loud and imperfect, 
A child at the keys, playing in two parts.
“Make a Joyful noise unto the Lord,” and we will.

Here we worship
In the wee hours of night,
Lullabies on our lips, 
Your goodness shines through sleepy eyes.
“I will give you rest.” And we know He will.