If I pray now, I pray to the God inside of me. The God whom I feel when between two words there is one missing. The God whom I feel when one hundred pages begets one. The God whom I feel when what has been finished is not yet finished. The God whose plan I feel like a child inside of me. The God whose voice I feel like a death inside of me. The God whose promise I feel like a wind inside of me. Not mine, not yet.
