This poem, originally composed during the Lenten season, has surface in new ways this week. So, here it is again.If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of life I’d awaken to a prelude that sets my mind aright I’d cry a call to worship, and imagine others joining And sing a fine doxology in place of my bemoaning If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of hour I’d sing a hymn to Him above before my morning shower And prayerful thoughts would pave the way along my morning drive As I hope to be the evidence of the peace of God alive If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of way I’d read the Scriptures daily and make the time to pray In each and every greeting I’d extend to those I’d meet I’d offer them a blessing of Christ’s mercies, oh so sweet! If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of hour I’d seek to find that mountain where to feel the Father’s power His Word would be the sermon, written on my heart And my body, mind, and soul would sing my God, how great thou art If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of life With compassion, I would pray a prayer of peace amid all strife To dear ones who are hurting or have even gone astray Before crawling into bed, I’d send a benediction on its way Today, I am in training for a Sunday sort of life On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I’m preparing for that life On Thursday, Friday, Saturday, I feel the Sabbath drawing near But all the days are practice–yes, each day and every year!
Prayers pour forth from the pillow on my bed
When my head assumes the posture of slumber
Like the swinging kick from a hammer to the knee
Gratitude, a plea, or thoughts wanting to be said
Leave my brain, stretching forth to God
Oh, my God, evening prayers, I send to Thee