There’s a place where I am known beyond what I articulate. I run to it each time sorrow overwhelms my soul. It is the place where my inward parts were formed. I am forever welcomed. Words are not as important as my tears. It is a place where I find solace. A place where the raging waves of human emotion are calmed. A place of blissful stillness, adoration and praise. A place where I’m lavished loved and embraced. No crumbs. A place where my sigh and faint voice get the door opened. It is a place where I am enough. A place where my nonsense is sensible.  A place where I am ever yearned for. A place where I thirst for after a long day. The company of a friend that sticks closer than no other. A place where the King of my heart dwells.  In Him I live, I move and find expression. A place where I am fearfully and wonderfully made. The secret place. Where I belong.

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.” – Matthew 6:5-7