Dear God, we have banded together, pooled our resources, and erected concrete walls against the wind. We huddle under metal roofs while the rain pours. We built a prison for our safety. We are our own jailers.
The rain that falls contains life. The wind blows me toward new friends. If I awaken, maybe I will see how standing apart might break the spell.
Yet even if I awaken, Lord, how then shall I bestir my fellows? Our band tragically sleeps inside while the woods drink in your rain and the flowers bloom.
Lord, while we sleep, let me have a sign. Shall I stand? Nudge the herd? Walk on? Sing joy?
Tell me, O Lord, how to awaken your love in my fellows’ heart?