Day Fourty and Eight
I feel like our conversations get a little one sided sometimes. Pouring my heart out through words, in type, spoken aloud, thoughts racing through my head. I sit and wait for your reply. If I listen best to words, why won't you speak? Why can't you bend to my expectations and speak your heart in a way I can understand. Why must the challenge be mine to push forward with. I vaguely sense your response in the broken bread and the empty pews. God, why does it have to be so complicated in my mind and simple in yours?