Lift Up Praise

Well, mercy me, some mornin’s sneak up on you like a shy bobcat slippin’ through the brush, and other mornin’s hit you like a startled opossum fallin’ out of a tree it had no business climbin’ up in the first place. But whether you rise slow or leap fast like a lil’ chipmunk that heard a twig snap, Scripture gives us a holy wake‑up call when it says, “Awake, my soul! Awake, harp and lyre! I will awaken the dawn.” (Psalm 57:8). And right alongside it, Psalm 150:6 reminds us, “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.” If you’re breathin’, friend, you’re on God’s praise roster, even if you’re still blinkin’ like a groggy hoot owl that went an’ overslept his own sunrise.

Now, bein’ awake in body but asleep in spirit is ’bout as helpful as an ol’ box turtle tryin’ to outrun a cool breeze. You know when you’re fully engaged and when you’re just noddin’ along like a woodpecker tappin’ on a hollow tree just to hear himself peckin’. And your family knows it, too. They can spot a half‑hearted “hallelujah” faster than a sly, red fox can spot a careless cottontail rabbit. If they can tell, imagine how quickly the Lord sees right through the motions and straight into the heart that’s still stretchin’ and yawnin’.

And let’s talk about music. Playin’ some kind ‘o instrument for the Lord is a privileged blessin’, even if your fingers is makin’ it sound plum like a lil’ ol’ beaver chewin’ on a water‑logged log. If you’re a musician, you gotta’ be playin’ your heart out in the greatest concert hall ever built, which is right there beatin’ in your own chest cavity.

An’ if you can’t carry a tune in a wheelbarrow, you gotta’ be singin’ anyway. The Lord never asked for perfect pitch. He asked for a real joyful noise. An’, friend, some of us can make real joyful noises loud enough to scare a white‑tailed deer clear on over into the next county.

So, with your loudest an’ best praises, awaken the dawn. Or awaken the mid‑mornin’. Or awaken whenever your eyelids finally surrender. Just be lettin’ praise be the first thing that steps outta that there bed right with you. Praise has a way of straightenin’ your spine, steadyin’ your spirit, and remindin’ your heart that God’s been real faithful since ‘a-fore the first salamander ever even started wriggling’ under a damp log.

Father, wake up my soul today. Help me praise You with intention, joy, and a heart that’s fully awake. Whether I rise early or shuffle in late, let my first breath and my last thought honor You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Well, I declare, friend, may your praise rise way up higher than a panicky ol’ squirrel racin’ up a hickory tree and git to lingerin’ a whole lot longer than a stubborn ol’ raccoon refusin’ to leave the porch once he’s done found them leftovers. You gotta’ be lettin’ your heart stay wide awake to God’s goodness long after the day tries to be dullin’ it. An’ then, let His praises be shinin’ through your hours brighter than a whole gatherin’ of fireflies that flat‑out refuse to quit their blinkin’, so much so that you’d think they was neon lights advertisin’ somethin’ real outstandin’ 'cause our God sho'-nuff' delights in our praises lifted up to Him.

With joy,

Gwen