Why do we get all pompous and anxious and stumble over ourselves in prayer? Why do we stare frozen at the windshield instead of enjoying the view it provides?
We have total permission to communicate badly, to come as the mess that we are.
Permission to be small and ask for what we need as well as what we want.
Permission to be a son or daughter that is so dearly loved our Dad might just give us what we want because we were brave & humble enough to look up.
((This weekend Vintage is having a seminar with Paul Miller, the author if A Praying Life... Just a few thoughts from last night ♥))
