A child’s voice cried out this morning at the most inopportune time: during prayer. This voice was like a knife and a firework in my heart. “Dada” he cried, and my heart was to the quick cut and I felt it in my throat, “Dada!” I long to join in, to release this pent up feeling of longing, of the expectant but not yet. “Dada”, to the present heart, and the heart that is broken, and being destroyed.
My eyes were shut, but I saw the kingdom in that moment. My salvation, so long in walking was flying!