I could kneel before you

But my lips are burned with hot coal for the unworthiness of speaking your Name.
The words I want to speak are forming in the deepest crevices of my heart, deep where my thoughts are birthed. Deeper than that.
Nothing I could speak out loud or from a reflection of my heart-words could be worthy for your ears to hear.

And yet…

Somehow You see the words before they form. You see the thoughts before they can ever become words. You know the Things. Those Things that touch my gut and brain, then are conceived and become disjointed Praise. Smallish worship, too small to measure up, of course. But True.

Those are the Ones I lift to You.

This morning.

My Soul.