O Christ,
You who stooped to wash the dust from feet
and bear the weight of splintered wood—
I come not to climb, but to descend
into the silence where You wait.
Unfold me.
Unfasten the locks of striving,
loosen the threads of needing to know—
and let me fall
like a seed into the soil of You.
Let me know the mystery
not with my mind alone,
but with the soft places of my being—
where wordless knowing breathes.
Teach me to love without measuring,
to kneel without fear,
to serve without seeking a name.
Make my life a basin and towel,
my heart a quiet room
where You may rest.
If You are the mystery—
then let my soul be
Your dwelling place.
Amen
Ancient Whispers 
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