I cannot reach you today, my God — not by savory caffeine or thoughtful word, not by breathtaking nature or stress-releasing laughter, not by stirring liturgy or restful silence — and I find myself wondering how often I lean on emotional experience to bridge this chasm between holy and human. Do you find me as predictable as I feel today? Is it frustrating to try to provoke my attention and adoration, day in and day out? Tomorrow I may find you as close as my own breath, but for tonight I will worry that you are not.
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