As I stand
Here
In this Pew,
In this church
Or Perhaps in this school hall
I am granted the ability to
Sing
At the top of my lungs
And I ponder on the meaning
Of worship
Of Praise
As I stand
I watch faces filled with doubt,
Filled with a mesmerised odd
Trance
They do not think of what they utter from their lips
They do not ponder Your Greatness
They stand weakly, hands at their sides
And merely sing
Without a thought in mind
What is worship?
What is praise?
Do we sing with all our being
As we pronounce our Heavenly Father's Holy Name?
Is worship not standing in the throne room
Before our Mighty God, our King, Creator of Heaven and Earth.

We are merely humans
Created by our Mighty Ruler
We stand before the Great I Am
And should we not sing with gratitude?
Should we not sing Praise to the One who made every intricate detail of our being
Our Prince who lives in the Sacred Sanctuary of our hearts...
Do we actually worship?
Lift our Hands as we Praise His Mighty Name
Because we are washed by His Blood
The Blood of Christ
Should we not
Praise him?
Worship him?
And adore Him?
The One who gave us the breath of life.

As I stand here,
I watch
And I ponder,
As you stand in the throne room
Do you worship the King?
Or do you stand meekly
Before the One who created your inmost being?