Echoes of Empty Worship #899

Echoes of Empty Worship In the hush of evening’s descent, The Lord whispers of drifting souls, Of worship uttered in hollow breaths— Words without weight, hearts untethered. Traditions tower like fortress walls, Built from the bricks of rote recitals, Memorized lines from a forgotten script, Acted out on life's worn stage. And He vows to startle, With unexpected strikes, Tearing down curtains of complacency, Revealing truths hidden in plain sight. The wise, adorned with intellect, Will see their wisdom crumble to dust; Their cleverness, once sharp, now blunt— Useless in the face of divine decree. Let us ponder upon our path: Do these footsteps belong to us? Or are we merely tracing circles In the sand of someone else’s journey? Seek we now the silent heart, Where true worship thrums, Not learned, but lived— A rhythm profound, resonant, real. Written by Steven G. Lee (April 14, 2024)