A Stillness

In the dark morning stillness, He calls.  In the chaos of the day, He calls.  Listen.  It's like the wind in the high mountain tree tops.  A constant rush of breeze.  The longing to be in His presence.  The feeling of His presence.  It's the knowing that pain and sorrow is bathed by His presence.  Bathed to ease and medicate.  To release the sting out of the hurt.

Yesterday was messy.  It lacked honor, stung with insult, bared it's unruly ugliness.  I found myself in the middle of more than I could process and with a feeling void of fortitude to push through.  But arise I did.  Not by myself, mind you.  He pushed me to a point of dealing.  Dealing with what was set before me.  Dealing with all that I had from the time my sleepy toes touched the carpeted bedroom floor.

Clarity that comes with anxiety so high that helium balloons can't even reach.  Feelings that with God all things are possible.  Reached only by the inaudible prayers of a soul who has seen messy and lived to breath the unmentionable to others.

The prayers for the lost and uncertain cannot go unheard.  Never unheard.  In the shallowness of the alive.  Near.  Just listen.  You'll hear.