The Other Half of the Prayer
Most mornings before I leave my devotion time, I close my eyes and whisper, "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer" (Psalm 19:14). It's a prayer that has become as natural to me as breathing. The first part makes perfect sense. I want the actual words coming out of my mouth to honor God. Simple enough.
But recently, as I sat on my beanbag in my office, I paused mid-prayer. What exactly am I asking when I pray for the "meditation of my heart" to be acceptable?
The word "meditation" in Hebrew (hagion) refers to our innermost thoughts, ponderings, and even mutterings. It's what we chew on mentally throughout the day, the internal dialogue constantly running through our minds.
I realized immediately that I've been so focused on controlling my external words that I've often neglected to guard my internal ones. And goodness, those internal conversations can be brutal! The criticisms I'd never voice aloud. The complaints I would be mortified if others heard. And what about the worries I endlessly rehearse?
The truth is, those internal meditations eventually become our external reality. Jesus made this connection clear: "For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh" (Matthew 12:34). What we allow ourselves to dwell on inevitably shapes what comes out.
Perhaps this is why Paul instructed us to bring "into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ" (2 Corinthians 10:5). He understood that the battlefield begins in the mind.
So, what does acceptable meditation look like? Thankfully, we're not left guessing. Paul gives us a practical checklist in Philippians 4:8: "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."
When I pray for acceptable meditation, I'm asking God to help me filter my thoughts through this divine sieve. I'm requesting His help to catch those unacceptable musings before they take root and eventually blossom into harmful words.
I've begun pausing throughout my day and asking, "Would I be comfortable if Jesus could hear this internal dialogue?" Then I remember—He already does.
The beautiful thing about Psalm 19:14 is that it doesn't just set a standard; it also provides the solution. The verse ends by acknowledging God as "my strength, and my redeemer." We need both His strength to maintain pure thoughts and His redemption when our meditations fall short.
So, the next time you pray this familiar verse, remember you're asking for a complete transformation from the inside out. And thankfully, we serve a God who specializes in exactly that kind of change.