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There are ways of praying that are more like exploring than imploring: woodland trails on which to shelter, and places so beautiful you’ll stop and whisper praise. There are secret, intimate places to camp, and paths that take you to the highlands for a longer view under a bigger sky.
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Delight without discipline eventually, inevitably dissipates.
‘my house now being all stilled’. The lights are off, doors locked, the street outside has fallen silent and inside every living thing has been put to bed. Finally, I am ready to host the whispering King.
‘We who would be born again indeed must wake our souls unnumbered times a day and urge ourselves to life with holy greed.’

