In prayer, I am learning to observe the silences between the words. I am learning that I don't have to fill the empty space because the space will eventually sing for itself. The waiting and listening and silence teach that the active work of prayer must be balanced by the humble acceptance of grace.
The seed of prayer is sown in heaven.
It pushes its stem toward the earth
and comes to grow there.
It produces an abundance of fruit.
Then, as it becomes seed once more,
it thruts its way back to heaven.