Dear God, I sit in secret and call to you, seek you. I cry out for you.
When you draw near, I am exhilarated. The feeling overwhelms me and I want more. But it is a fruitless chase. I cannot force your arrival. Days, weeks become deserts as I search and wait for you, praying ever harder yet without true surrender, chasing after the exhilaration of your presence.
Lord, let me relax everything that is contracted. Let me open. Let me trust that you are coming, quietly, without trumpets and drama.
Let me learn to shun the exhilaration I used to seek. Give me, instead, quiet dependence.
The windswept mountaintop, O Lord, is no longer for me. Let me take joy in this quiet room. Draw near to me here.