I grew up a Catholic and I don't want to talk badly about the Catholic Church but there's a lot of routine stuff going on. You say the same prayers, you sit, you kneel, whatever.
I don't always kneel when I pray. My prayers fly heavenward all day longwhile I bake or drive or comfort. I mean no disrespect Heavenly Father, I just need him constantly while the work of woman goes on.
My sweetest Indian, here,
Here will I kneel, for thou redeemed hast
My life from too thin breathing: gone and past
Are cloudy phantasms.
I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are sons of one religion, and it is the spirit.
When I was a kid, I'd kneel down at the side of my bed every night before I went to sleep, and my mother and I would say a Greek prayer to the Virgin Mary.
Am I foolish and insignificant or am I great? I gave all the individuals in the world cause to kneel down in front of me.
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. 'Now they are all on their knees,' An elder said as we sat in a flock By the embers in hearth-side ease. We pictured the meek mild creatures where They dwelt in their strawy pen, Nor did it occur to one of us there To doubt they were kneeling then. So fair a fancy few would weave In these years yet, I feel If someone said on Christmas Eve, 'Come see the oxen kneel, In the lonely barton by yonder coomb Our childhood used to know,' I should go with him in the gloom, Hoping it might be so.
I am ashamd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.
All those who journey, soon or late, Must pass within the garden's gate Must kneel alone in darkness there, And battle with some fierce despair. God pity those who cannot say 'Not mine but thine' who only pray 'Let this cup pass,' and cannot see The purpose in Gethsemane. All paths which have been or must be, Must pass through Gethsemane. All those who journey, soon or late, Must pass somewhere through the garden's gate. Must kneel alone in darkness there, And deal with some fierce despair. God pity those who cannot say, 'Not mine, but shine,' who only pray 'Let this cup pass,' and cannot see The purpose of Gethsemane.
Yesterday we obeyed kings and bent our necks before emperors. But today we kneel only to truth, follow only beauty, and obey only love.
Two races share today the soil of Canada. These people had not always been friends. But I hasten to say it. There is no longer any family here but the human family. It matters not the language people speak, or the altars at which they kneel.
Global warming is not a conqueror to kneel before - but a challenge to rise to. A challenge we must rise to.
As surely as I am the living God, everyone will kneel before me, and everyone will confess that I am God.
All over the world at the end of day, Heav'nly Father's children kneel down and pray... Our Heavenly Father hears them He understands each tongue. Our Heav'nly Father knows them He loves them, loves them, ev'ry one.
Here I kneel:
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love
Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form,
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will, though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me!
Within I kneel before you, speechless yet,
And life ablaze with beauty, I am dumb.