The Great Absurdity

"The cosmos turns on our little prayers...

the greatest danger is that we are kept from our worship and our prayers."

Harold Myra

Prayers are not like fog that rises and soon dissipates in the wind or the sunshine.

Worship is not songs sung in the middle of religious rites.

I have known and walked with God from my infancy.

He has shattered my life with his grace and mercy.

The fabric of who I am has been worked by his hands..

the hands of a master weaver.

The hands of love.

Life is devastating.

Unrelenting in it's forward motion.

It's lessons immovable.

How soon I forget the simplicity of the gospel.

Walk in the light.

Seek first His kingdom.

Cry out.

He will answer.

Draw near.

Love does not exist at a distance.

Communion exists face to face.

Hand to hand.

Mouth to mouth.

Intimacy: heart to heart.

Every day I stand upon new soil.

Upon a new shoreline.

Mercies new.

Reborn.

Each moment heavy with possibility.

Saturated in the miraculous.

He fills all.

I will worship.

I will cry out.

I will offer my prayers.

My little prayers.

I will trust Him to:

Illuminate.

Forgive.

Save.

Restore.

Strengthen.

Sustain.

Heal.

Love.

How absurd.

How simple.

How like a child.

Child-like.

Exactly.