I rose in the morning to pray one day

 In the bloom of the dawn I rejoiced,

 And my heart skipped lightly before my God

 As His praises in song I voiced.

 It was marvelous being caught up in arms

 Which led my dancing soul,

 While I thought I would burst for the joy I felt

To sing, to play at my Father's throne

 .......... that morning.

And then there was the day that I rose to pray

And I wrestled my wandering mind.

It is sin or self or satan, dear Lord, that works this frustration?

A kind of labyrinth of thought -

I bump into walls that stop my persistent pursuit.

I reached out for you, Lord, and found my hands full of nothing

   ............ that morning.

And that birthed the morning I didn't arise

My body dictated the word which my mind confirmed while my spirit squirmed;

For Your beckoning voice it heard:

"Come, Child; Come be with Me."

"Come, now  watch and pray."

 "Can you not watch one hour with me?"

 .................. this morning."

Now I'm here again, Lord, it's another day

And as sure as I am that you hear

And as glad as I am to be with You ...

I'll say that my heart is somehow tempted to fear....

I fear I'm a failure at prayer

And I fear that my stumbling words will not count

I fear I'll never be consistent in prayer

Like the ones who on eagle's wings mount

 ............ each morning.

Then a Voice speaks to me:

"Child of dust, I know you and it's you

I've invited to be with Me each day

at the time that you pray .... whether dancing or weary.

 

You see, I have never required certain moods of you

And so, never require them of Me.

But I'll meet you there, however you are.

 

We will dance at times, when your spirit climbs

Or 'mid wandering thought, I'll forsake you not.

And when words are bare, I'll still hear your prayer

But keep coming, My Child

 ........... Good morning!"