A poem: On my knees before my King:

On my knees before my King

Drawn there by false humility

And a sense of inadequacy

As I watch others kneel,

I feel the need to as well

I reach the ground and bow,

Head face down,

Arms outstretched

It looks (and feels) quite awkward honestly,

my body aches as my lack of flexibility

Inhibits my kneeling ability

Ashamed of my improper posture and form

I apologize to my King,

wishing my prostration could fit the norm

As I laugh bashfully at the whole situation,

and my perceived failure to

match the spirit of the congregation

builds in me a sense of frustration,

The King interrupts

And He responds,

with a smile:

“It’s okay, your heart has been bowed to me for a long time.”

I hear these words then see my King kneel down with me,

He sits on His knees in front of me,

pulls my head into His shoulder and says:

“I don’t think you realize how proud I am of you.”

He doesn’t need me to kneel because He already has my heart.

No proof of surrender needed, the proof is in the pudding

Though it’s no perfect score

My story is the evidence

So though I may start on my knees with head bowed before my King

And return there intermittently

I’m reminded that my King is also

my Father and Friend;

simultaneously.

He’s not just the King I bow down to

But the King who kneels down with me.

-Noah Baxter