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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! 
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