My phone buzzes and I glance down to see her name and a lengthy text that fills the middle of the screen. A thank you and a hope to see you soon and a how can I pray for you?
My mind races over the multitude of things as I re-lock my phone without responding. There’s this and there’s that, I think as I slowly strap on my mask. I could give her pat answers and I kind of just want to. It’s easier to hide here in this little room I’ve created where admittance is allowed only by invitation and a secret handshake.
I add bricks and distance because I don’t want to have to explain my thoughts and actions. I don’t want to divulge the roads I’m walking that lead me to this need for prayer or that one – no matter how difficult and at times painful and confusing these roads are. Roads that aren’t walked because of sin but just the way life seems to play itself out.
So I wait, hold in my fragile hands prayers of all shapes and colors. Unsure how to respond to this person I call friend. It isn’t that I don’t trust her, but more fear because I’m not even sure myself how to pray.
Do you struggle with this?
Do you divulge or continue to hold these secrets in your hands?
How do you find your way out of hiding?