I embrace words. I love the way words dance down a page, spill from a mouth in conversation with Him (who is The Word). But sometimes, I have no words. I’m rendered dumb — mouth numb — and speechless over who He is.
When I don’t know what to say in my prayers,
I sing them instead.
I pull back the black bench, sit before 88 keys, and plunk my prayers in black and white, an offering for this colorful, unfathomable God of Life.Explosive, Technicolor Life.
No words, for you, Christ Jesus.
So I will serenade You, my Savior,
who brings color to my song:
“Thou, my everlasting portion
More than friend or life to me
All along my pilgrim journey,
Savior, let me walk with Thee.”
Between wrong notes and bungled timing, I find prayer in the song.
Jesus is the soundtrack of our life and home, so we pray-sing to him throughout the hours. We pray-sing to Him in the kitchen, and in the van, and in the playroom, as Polly Pockets lift plastic arms in praise.
We pray with spoken and written words, too — in our journals, and through our Bibles, and down lists of requests that pile up in the inbox, on the answering machine, or in the community prayer bulletin.
But sometime when I talk to Him, I’m …
(the silence comes….)
I’m …. rendered speechless. I have no words of my own.
So I pray-sing to Him instead:
“I’m finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is, it’s okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say
Word of God Speak….”
Off-key, I am
Yet I’ve sung myself
into His presence again.
And behold: The Crimson Curtain rises.
He stops, center stage
And the prayer-song becomes a colorful chorus:
He is singing with us!