can you just stop in the middle of that thought in the middle of that activity in the middle of that

crying that worrying that praying stop in the middle of praying.

And ask, I wonder what my next prayer will be and wait.

Listen.

What comes next won't be yours, it will be mine.

First you will hear my silence, my language, my love.

When I tell you to take my name, I don't mean to take to repeating syllables.

The name of God isn't a sound, it's a feeling.

It's the warmth expanding in your chest.

It's the silence spreading out right now.

Take my feeling.

Take my love.

Chant my love.

Repeatedly fill my love.

My hand on your shoulder.

Stop searching for it.

Yield to it.

Relax under it.

Whatever you think the pressure is, it's me.

My will is the only thing being done, not yours, not theirs, it's always been mine.

All of it, the friction smooths you out. It breaks you open. It reveals the one I created in my image to do my work. The you you were could not do my work. You couldn't even hear

me. You didn't know me. When you're afraid, it's only because you've forgotten me, but you're remembering.

...