I think of prayer. I think of active resistance to the principalities and powers, those of which the Apostle Paul wrote in the letter to the Ephesians. I think of the place I go when I have nowhere else to turn. I think of looking up when I have been made to bow down. I think of the foot of the Cross. I think of emptying my words, heart, dreams, and hopes, on the ground before me. I think of the worn carpet before the altar. I think of the old wood floor beside my desk, I think of the gravel in the driveway. I think of the grass by the side of the road. I think of everything and nothing. I think of the words I want Jesus to hear and those I am afraid to say. I think I can withhold nothing from Jesus . I think of what must be brought to light. I think I am not alone. I think of the prayers before me, around me, and waiting for my knee to bend. I think. I speak. I weep. I mumble. I give thanks. I listen for God. I listen to God. I feel God’s creation beneath my knee as touch the Earth. I bend my knee in love. I pray in peace so I may serve others as the disciple Jesus called me to be. I take a knee because Jesus taught me to pray from my knee so I might minister with my hands, arms, feet, and legs. I think of prayer.
Richard Lowell Bryant