Whatcha doing, mama?
I opened my eyes and turned to see my four-year-old with a questioning look on his face. I was on my knees in front of my desk chair praying for a dear friend that the Lord had laid heavy on my heart.
I'm praying baby. Want to do it with me?
Yeah! His face lit up to be involved, so we kneeled down together and sought the Lord's favor in my friend's life.
And these are the moments that the Lord uses to redeem my horrible mommy moments of yelling and being impatient. Ohhh, legacy.
A lot happens when I get on my knees. It's a matter of perspective. When I am on my knees, my heart is softer, it's more humble. I'm coming to my loving and righteous Father as a tender and unassuming child.
Father, rescue me.
Father, love on me.
Father, lead me and guide me.
Father, thank you.
Kneeling is an act of lowering and humbling yourself out of massive respect and awe of the one who holds your life in His hands. And I feel that He meets me there in my state of humility. I feel that He lowers himself to me, cups my face in His nail-scarred hands and whispers, it is my pleasure, my child.
Immanuel. God with us.
Humility is the fear of the Lord; its wages are riches and honor and life.
He withdrew about a stone's throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed.
It's also a posture of submission.
My God, your will be done. My dreams, plans, hopes, and priorities shine so bright they almost blind me. To kneel is to realign my heart with the will of God. To refocus my eyes on the glory that shines not from my smallness, but from the greatness that is our creator.
This submission is the acknowledgment of His all powerful and holy sovereignty. Good God Almighty! Just the brush of my knees to the ground levels me.
Lord, I need and desire and crave...but above all, your will be done.
Kneeling to pray is not necessary. But, oh, the things that happen when I do.