How worn are your knees? I am a runner and there are days when my body feels worn. The wear and tear of exercise causes a soreness that is incomparable to any other form of pain. But I’m not talking about the wear from use, I’m talking about the wear from prayer. So again, I ask, how worn are your knees?
About a month ago, God challenged my world with a simple command. A command that rocked some relationships, challenged my faith and brought me to my knees. In the middle of this prayerful season, I went to a women’s conference at a local church. The message was powerful, the conviction felt and I watched as women of all ages approached the altar in holy surrender and desperate longing for direction, forgiveness, acceptance and healing. While worship music encompassed the crowd of prayerful warriors, heartbroken daughters and willing servants- I was drawn to a single woman. She approached the altar, a cane in her right hand and an agonizing limp in her left leg. Her pace was slow. Her face distraught. I watched in heartbreak as she attempted to kneel, but her physical body would not allow her the descent to her knees.
I studied her expression as I saw the slow creep of discouragement spread over her aged brow. She began a slow trek to the side of the stage where benches had been place out of the way. As she approached the nearest bench, she placed her hands on the seat and eased herself down. With one knee bent and the other stretched behind her, she assume a stance of prayerful pleading. For the remainder of the song and into the closing message, she prayed. Silent words spilling from her lips as she surrendered her heart to God on one bended knee.
As the night drew to a close, I watched as as she struggled to get up. Her stiff body made the ascent even more challenging, but as she slowly turned to begin the journey back to her seat, I was drawn to her expression once again. Where minutes before was anguish, discouragement, and grief now appeared peace. And with each painful step, a small smile spread across her face.
How often in my youth and health do I take for granted the ability to fall to my knees to assume a stance of humility? Or their strength to stand and answer the call to action? I can only imagine the soreness this woman must have felt for the remainder of the day, but how incomparable is the pain of prayer to that of age and injury. I found myself convicted and challenged to use my knees to the full extent of their created purpose- to approach my Heavenly Father in submission, humility and surrender. Since that conference, I have spent many nights in prayer- most on my knees. The burn of carpet has not kept me from pleading, praising and dreaming- in fact it inspires me to pray harder, praise louder and dream bigger. So, yet again I ask, how worn are your knees?