On My Knees

On My Knees

I do not come from a faith tradition that regularly kneels. Sometimes I wish I did (although I’m sure my knees do not!). I’ve most often prayed sitting, sometimes walking or standing, and more rarely lying faceup or facedown. Kneeling, not so much.

But lately my body wants to kneel. I can’t explain why, after decades of Christ following and God worshiping, I have the strong inclination to hit the ground when I listen and speak to God, but I do. The urge feels natural, like the tugging awareness of hunger or thirst, so I follow it. Many predawn mornings now, I ease myself out of bed and kneel for a few moments before I begin the duties of the day.

Author Annie Dillard says, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.”^a If this is true (and I think it might be), then my kneeling is a good thing. Living low—even for only a minute or two—is a good practice for me, lest I think too highly of myself.

I’ve heard that men still kneel before kings on ceremonial occasions, and I’ve known more than a few who took a knee before the woman they wished to marry when they proposed. But those are momentary, public niceties, not well-worn habits done corporately or in private.

I’m new to this posture, so I can’t say for certain if it’s changing me, but I believe it might be. For this season, at least, I am on my knees. God is as he is and has always been: near, above, beside, and within. May it ever be so.

I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.

Ephesians 3:14-17, NASB

^a Annie Dillard, The Writing Life (New York: HarperCollins, 2013), 32.