Sacred Alter
“Teach me to pray,” I ask the Father.
He lovingly said, “Kneel down at my sacred alter”.
Looking around I could not see; where could this sacred alter be?
Then gently he instructed me his sacred alter was my knee.
In that moment it became the Holy of Holies.
Kneeling in humble prayer he assured me he would meet me there.
How sweetly he whispered, “Here you can always find me.
Here I will ever wait for thee, ever listening to hear your hearts plea.
It was with tear filled eyes that I finally understood that God’s alter is not made of
Stone nor wood, but of a humble spirit and heart of love
For Brian Strand's contest
Any 2011 poem
Copyright © Lori Lucas Mcclure | Year Posted 2011
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