Praise has seen me through many trials. It carried me through a child's cancer. It ministered to me through several cross country moves. It even fought battles I never thought I'd win. Yet, I find myself with a drawn but downcast sword. I try to praise, but it seems empty. I step into obedience and words tumble out of my mouth, but they have no power. I stand in the middle of a battlefield without a voice. Silence echoes through the land.
Just as I give up hope, a gentle breeze blows across my face. With the breath something in my spirit rises! Gratefulness bursts forth and tumbles onto my path. A glimmer of hope dances across my sword. I pick up a handful of dust and give thanks for the place in which I stand. My praise is still powerless, but gratefulness may be the key to unleashing a mighty resurrection. A new strategy emerges. Gratitude begins to take hold. This is where I can rest. All of a sudden I see that I am standing on Holy ground.
