If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of life I’d awaken to a prelude that would set 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 God above before my morning shower And on my way to work, but before I would arrive Prayerful thoughts would pave the way along my morning drive 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 to the people I would meet I’d pray that God would bless them with love and grace and peace If today I were in training for a Sunday sort of hour I’d seek within creation the creative Spirit’s power God’s 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 For dear ones who are hurting and for those who’ve gone astray Before crawling into bed at night, I’d think of them and pray If today is preparation for a Sunday sort of way I look ahead to Sunday, the Sabbath, the Lord’s Day On Thursday, Friday, Saturday, I sense it drawing near But all the days belong to God—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