Sometimes, like this morning, I don’t sing.

I just sit silent.

There’s where I hear His voice, feel His embrace, His breathing presence: in the silence.

All I say is, “Our Father… Father…” And the word sinks down and I feel its meanings and feel His presence wrapped gentle around me in this room.

It would be here, in any case. But only in the silence, the stopping, the ceasing from words and plans and actions, can I sense it, it’s so delicate a thing to detect and know.

It does require focus. And my thoughts were bounding everywhere. And the focus I took was those first words: “Our Father, Who art in Heaven.” And the name Father spoke alone to my heart, reached in and took kind hold of its attention, and I could not speak or sing, but only think, and know, and realize His Father presence… and let the gratitude seed in and root and grow here in these minutes.

And that is all that’s needed.


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