PRAISE poems and contemporary psalms

Some time ago, I asked, "Is there something You want me to do, Lord?" and, immediately, the word "Praise" came to mind. Having been raised in a polite Christian family, the inclination to thank God and people came easily enough, but praise?

Ready to obey, but not very well-practiced in praising, I sensed God's help as relevant thoughts and phrases caught my attention each morning. Once I’d typed those beginning lines, other thoughts and lines swiftly followed – somewhat like a stream-of-consciousness flow, but more subconscious or even unconscious of what might come next!

Spontaneity remained key – often with a phrase that startled me or an insight God gave in thoughts I'd never had before the opening for a prayer, poem, or contemporary psalm gained my attention. So my "method" became an intent to obey rather than create as I wrote down each thought or phrase with the anticipation that the rest would freely follow. It did, and this blog resulted.

For about a year, my morning began with the same routine of listening, writing down what came to mind, and seeing what followed. Ironically, perhaps, the first lines occasionally began with a complaint or other negative thought! Then I recalled reading that a third of the Psalms in the Bible can be called “laments.” However, the psalmists did not remain in that negative state but, with prayer and recollection, remembered the goodness of God, Who can always be trusted.

With Psalms as my mentor, I seldom gave the prayer-poems a title, other than the first line, which began with a grumble, worry, or joy. This continued for months, then suddenly stopped! For days, I mopped around, wondering what had happened, and finally it dawned on me: I had enough prayer-praise-poems for a book.

Having met Catherine Lawton on social media and checking out the lovely, faith-building books she publishes through Cladach, I contacted her with a proposal for a book entitled PRAISE! Not only did she accept the manuscript, she divided the book into sections and suggested some tweaks to tighten the poems or clarify meaning.

With thanks to her and Cladach, I pray the praises here and collected in the book PRAISE! will encourage you to talk with God regularly, moan or mourn as needed, and let the Lord lift you into a life of ongoing praise.

Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2018

PRAISE! paperback




…

Preparing The Way with praise

Sing to God!
Sing praises to His name.

Let praise prepare a way for the Lord,
Who journeys through the most desolate places.

Let God be your Lord.
Let your praise prepare the way for His presence.

Psalm 68:4 paraphrased by Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2017, with the help of many translations on Bible Gateway.

…

Lament and praise with Psalm 13

O LORD, how long
will this keep going on?
Are You going to forget me forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?

How long must I keep talking to myself
with confusion and soul-sorrow every day?

How long will people of ill will beat me down?

O LORD God, please listen!
Please answer my prayers.
Give me light, or I might
sleep the sleep of death!

Rebellious people rejoice
and think they’ve won
with words that shake us!

But LORD, I trust Your love
and kindness.
I celebrate Your saving grace!

How good You are, O LORD!
With psalms, I sing Your praise.

Psalm 13 prayer-a-phrased by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2017, with translations from Bible Gateway.

…

Praising God with Psalm 9

LORD, my whole heart thanks You.
I can’t begin to count Your wonderful deeds.
How glad I am in You! Oh, how I rejoice!
Even my enemies repent in Your presence.

You maintain me and all I stand for –
the righteous rulings You bring.

Nations will receive Your rebuke,
and people will perish in wickedness
that has no part in You.

You have uprooted cities
and brought to an end
every ruining thing.

But You, LORD, sit securely
on Your throne of justice,
and You treat all people fairly.

What a stronghold You are
in troubled times, O LORD!

All who know Your name
can totally trust in You,
for You, O LORD, do not forsake
those of us who seek You sincerely.

We sing Your praises, Lord,
and tell of Your wondrous acts
for You are mindful of us
and do not forget our cries.

Psalm 9:1-12 prayer-a-phrased by Mary Sayler, © 2017

…

Praising God with Psalm 1

Psalm 1

How blessed are we
who walk not in the ways of the wicked,
nor stand in the way of sinners,
nor sit seated in cynicism and scorn!

For we delight in the law of the Lord,
and on God’s Word, we meditate
day and night.

We are like trees
planted by streams of water,
yielding our fruit in due time.
Our leaves will not wither,
and all we do in the Lord will prosper.

Not so, the wicked!
They’re like dust driven away by wind,
and their ways won't stand
when tried,
nor will they find rapport with the righteous.

For God identifies with
righteous ways,
but wicked ways will someday cease.

prayer-a-phrased by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

This ruckus of crows, dogs, hawks

will not keep me from liking
the silken air, the deep green
shadows in the field, the joy
of loving You in my life.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Each morning our house says HI

as sun comes by the wind chimes
to make an “H” and “I”
in shadows on the wall,
We take this as a greeting
from God: a sign – reminder
of His meeting with us all.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Lord, help me to bear

Your Good News when I feel
as though I have none.
Help me to bear Your love
when I’ve descended low.
Help me to bear this lift
of praise for Your compassion.

Mary Sayler, ©2016
#aahcoo

… 

The wind snaps its fingers.

Our oak tree drops on command.
Palm fronds lay prostrate. Rain
washes – band after band
of purifying power
from the Lord’s cleansing hand.
Faith and spider webs still stand.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo
…

I’m waiting, waiting

for God to respond –
like this Wood Stork wading
in our pond.
But celebrating
God’s goodness goes beyond
this present date of waiting.

by Mary Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo

Wood Stork photo "Waiting" by Mary Harwell Sayler

I love to see pink

between twilit tree branches
praising God anew.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo
…

Talking to three sandhill cranes

while walking down our sand road,
I keep my voice low – like God
did with Elijah – no wind,
no quaking earth, but a small
still Voice, Which does not frighten
but speaks decibels of love.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo

…

A magnolia pod came down hard

on the deck
bouncing between the three of us!
Praise You for protection, Lord –
from this close miss
and all those we cannot see.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Lord, I can’t seem to focus

on anything today
until I see You
as my epicenter.
Help me erupt into praise!

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Thumbs don’t seem important, Lord

until we lose one
or a stiff joint begins to bend
like a rusted hinge.

How brilliantly
You have made us, and yet
we cringe at the sight
of our roller-coaster-looking skin.

Can any sin compare to our lack
of praise?

Forgive us, Lord, for thinking thumbs
are not important
or forgetting how much we need them
to open an obstinate jar or push
in a thumb tack or click our fingers in time
to music.

Praise You, Lord, for placing
flexible thumbs on hands
intended to serve You.

Help us to give
a thumbs-up to every part
of the brilliantly beautiful
Body of Christ.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

God fell in love with me

and you and them!

We did nothing
to deserve it.

Sin marred our skin
and made us unattractive,
but God looked through
the blemishes and took
away every mark against us,
so we could be happy
enough with ourselves
to believe in His love.

What a joy! What a wonder!
What a relief to be loved
for our truest selves,
thanks be to God!

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

I want to walk on water

but I cannot see Your face.
Grace me with Your presence, Lord.
Reach out Your hand,
and raise me into praise.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo

The owl did not call my name

but flew by without a sound –
barely above the ground – before
landing on a lower branch
of the cedar we call “Leb,”
then turning its back to me
to display grey-brown feathers
dappled in white to match
the tree’s catch of sun.

The owl still did not call
me nor ask the important
question: Who? Who?
But I know, Lord, it’s You –
The One Who truly
knows my name.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Praise God my Lover

Who showers me with good gifts
and fields of flowers,
Who whispers my name
and waits patiently for me
to answer His request
to be Christ’s Bride forever.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Skeletons fell on our deck, O Lord

– two the blackened bones
of baby birds, one most likely
a lizard, its long white spine
outlining its form.

Rain washed these bones
from the nest of a hawk, high
overhead in our magnolia tree,
whose brown-flecked petals
are falling still and quietly
curling on our deck – another
reminder of passing time and death.

When it comes, Lord, I know
You’ll be here with more strength
to carry me than these pine boards
on which I stand -- and surely
with less ferocity than the baby
birds and lizard bore at the beaks
of those young hawks – grown now
and flown away, leaving behind
skeletal reminders of my own.

They say awareness of our mortality
brings wisdom, Lord, but I’m
thinking it gives cause for faith
to seek and find You, breathing
life into my bare bones of thanks
and praise.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…