The Spirit helps us in our weakness;
for we do not know how to pray as we ought,
but that very Spirit intercedes
with sighs too deep for words.
I don’t know how to pray.
I have nothing to say,
no idea what I should be thinking
or even listening for.
So I will sit quietly with you,
as if holding hands on a park bench.
I hold this space in me,
this not knowing, this emptiness,
and in this wilderness in me
And I adore.
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