All My Works Be Praise

It’s the last verse that gets me every time.  Lyrics here.

The sure provisions of my God

Attend me all my days.

O may Thy house be mine abode

And all my work be praise!

There would I find a settled rest

While others go and come—

No more a stranger nor a guest,

But like a child at home.

All my work be praise could be taken in two senses.  The first is a wish that the only work you have is to praise God.  Harps on a cloud.  The second is a wish that all your work inherently praises Him.  That your dishwashing and your tax prep all be a hymn to God.

I like the second better.  It is something we can achieve now and fits better with the revealed truth that mortality isn’t just a mistake or a detour.

It tastes good.