wait
June 17, 2009
There comes a time when prayer can no longer be pretty, containted, or pattern. The microphone must fall to the floor and the instruments come to a still. Communion begins breaking into the silence of the air and all the while He finds it breathtaking, contained in the permameters of His presence, poetic to the rhythms of His heart: our hearts bare before Him. Teach me Jesus how to open my heart to You.
