LOOK NOT TO MEN

For years I felt awed by a man who could pray
In rich stentorian sound;
Whose beautiful words, imploring God's help ,
With Biblical terms did abound.

When time came for prayer in a group small or large,
His voice was the first to be heard.
And it seemed in discussions of Scriptural truths
He always would have the last word.

I felt so inadequate next to this man,
That I dreaded my own turn to pray.
Just a "Please help me, Lord," while choking back tears,
Were about all the words I could say.

Alone with the Lord I could pour out my heart,
But really I felt it was sad
That when in a crowd, as each viewpoint was heard,
I found I had not much to add.

So I sat there and listened and quietly prayed
That Jesus would open my mind,
And help me to be like the man I admired,
And grant me great prayer words to find.

But one day that man whom I held in such awe
Ran off with another man's wife.
It caused a deep rift, and the body of Christ
Was laden with heartache and strife.

I asked God's forgiveness for holding a man
As example of what I should be,
Instead of accepting how I had been made,
With words and thoughts fitted to me.

I still feel quite shy when I'm praying out loud,
And still no great words can I find,
But I pray from a heart of thanksgiving and praise,
And I'm sure my dear Lord doesn't mind.

Betty Jo Mings

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