This has been a summer of prayer school.
Sure. I talk about it. I teach it. I do it.
And then family hearts break because of impossible tragedy. Then the chaos of misery strikes my child.
Then I realize that I am held by a weave of hearts connecting to the Holy and in that weave I am grieving sister and aunt and wracked mother and I am raw want and I am held.
I am held.
Love breathes through prayer. The number of people who have prayed and are praying for my loves and for others in this God blessed world is wondrous.
The song of prayer, whispered and bellowed and sung minute by minute and heart by heart.
Prayer; the heart longing of God reached out and returned as the breath that is life.