Dear God, the day begins and I am already needy. Parched, on a wasteland, I await instructions and I strain to hear your voice.
Are you whispering, dear Lord? Are your messages to me writ on flimsy paper, easily torn or missed? I listen and do not hear. Wind howls and blows dust and leaves.
Lord, let me wait with patience and acceptance. The wind will stop, the rain will come, your voice I will hear. I will learn again to listen.
Let me not march without direction.