We were made to praise God. It is our raison d’etre, our true fulfilment. If we understood its purpose and power, we would be unable to stop ourselves in singing His praise. If we understood Him, we would be unable to stop ourselves in singing His praise.
I cannot praise my deserving Lord,
Until my little finger thrills and bends
To that rhythm of the sacred hymns
That all creation in blessing ascends.
My praise is scant till my every
Muscle, sinew, joint and neural path,
Tremble in awe at that majesty,
To whom angels bow, lovingly aghast.
My praise is poor, unfit for purpose,
If only my head in glib recognition,
Spouts words, while my hands, face and heart
Demonstrate a very different rendition.
My praise is paltry if unlike the trees,
I do not form in upwards reaching yield,
Stretching my life stance ever outwards,
To mimic nature’s surging sap concealed.
My praise is stilted if my daily voice
Echoes not the birds’ awakening array,
Who loudly sing to all without exception,
Their delight in the returning light of day.
My praise is puny if, unlike a child,
I have no exhilaration of wonderment,
And spontaneity is a stranger tone,
In my outpouring stream of sentiment.
My praise is piecemeal when hard times come
If I forget to cry out loud and clear,
That You are worthy of full praise – period,
And let my glad spirit be subdued by fear.
Our praise is languid if we privatise
Our prayer, to never sing out in unity,
Refusing to raise a concerted chorus to
That first family – the eternal Trinity.
Our praise will nonetheless be pleasing
If our efforts are underpinned by sincerity,
As humble men are always acceptable,
And will never be outdone by His generosity.
To Father, Son and Spirit, praise always;
The highest purpose of our personhood;
To be what we can ever only be:
Fulfilled, as God ever intended we should.