In a previous church, every time we would finish a service, a dear elderly lady who always sat front row left would say, "Praise the Lord." I never asked if she was in a praising mood because she liked the worship we had done or because she was happy I had finally finished.
Songwriter Laura Story says this of praising the Lord: Praise the Lord, oh my soul
I will praise the Lord as long as I live
I will sing praises to my God
Even with my dying breath
He is the One who made Heaven and earth
The sea and everything in it
He is the One who keeps every promise forever
He gives justice to the oppressed
And set the prisoners free
Russ Taff sang:
When you're up against a struggle
That shatters all your dreams
And your hopes have been cruelly crushed
By Satan's manifested schemes
And you feel the urge within you
To submit to earthly fears
Don't let the faith you're standing in, seem to disappear
Praise the Lord
He can work with those who praise Him,
Praise the Lord
For our God inhabits praise,
Praise the Lord
For the chains that seem to bind you
Serve only to remind you that they drop powerless behind you
When you praise him
As the hymn states: Praise Him in the morning, praise Him at the noontime, praise Him at night.
Psalm 48 tells us a simple, simple message: "Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised."
Psalm 150 tells "everything that has breath, praise the Lord."
God actually commanded us to praise.
So...
I finish the week in the manner I began it. In praise...
I praise Him for accepting me, when I have a great deal of difficulty accepting myself.
I praise Him for loving me, when I'm unlovable.
I praise Him for wanting me, when many said they did not by their words or by their actions.
I praise Him for correcting me, keeping me awake with concern for my inability to grow.
I praise Him for watching over my spouse, my children, my grand-children, my pets.
I praise Him for being the living God, capable of more than my imagination can produce, more than my reason can accept.
I praise Him.
I praise Him for conquering death, and smashing lonliness, for taking my pain and shouldering the burden of worry about it.
I praise Him, God of all things, God of little things, God of the biggest of big things.
I praise Him.
This week I asked for readers to give their praises to God to me so that I could write and share them. No one did.
I pray the reasons no one did had everything to do with me and this blog and nothing to do with my readers and their relationship with the Eternal One.
Who is infinitely more ready to receive my praise than I am to give.
From weak knees I praise Him.
1 comment:
I guess I missed the part where you asked for a response awhile back. I'm not much a hand waiver and shouter, as if at a pep rally for Jesus. (Not too keen on pep rallies in general.) But my own "default" praise is Psalm 103, which I memorized years ago and try to repeat at least once a day. I may not manage it every day, but almost. And on the best and worst days I repeat it frequently. I reckon our best times are when we praise, either because things are great, or - as you say -- because God is greater still than even our worst days. Sometimes it's the "Yea, though he slay me..." praises that have the most depth.
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