Lying alone in the pasture, dark except for the magnetic full moon. There is an overwhelming sense of quietness. My being is part of the earth and part of the pure white light of the moon at the same time. Nothing else is significant. For a second I wonder, "Am I dead?" It isn't important -- I am spending an hour in God's hands, and it will become part of me.
If you can't pray a real prayer, pray
hypocritically, full of doubt
and dry-mouthed.
God accepts counterfeit money
as though it were real.