Prayer is like lying awake at night, afraid, with your head under the cover, hearing only the beating of your own heart. It is like a bird that has blundered down the flue and is caught indoors and flutters at the window panes. . . . But sometimes a prayer comes that you have not thought to pray, yet suddenly there it is and you pray it. . . . Sometimes the bird finds that what looks like an opening is an opening, and it flies away.
We did not ask for this room or
this music; we were invited in.
Therefore, because the dark
surrounds us, let us turn our
faces toward the light. Let us
endure hardship to be grateful
for plenty...We did not ask for
this room or this music. But
because we are here, let us
dance.
~ Stephen King and Bridget Carpenter in a poem from 11.22.63
