Lately I have noticed, with sadness, the disconnect I have with Christ. I hate that I am here. I don't even have enough energy to get into it all right now, as work and kids and life has me so emotionally drained, I don't know if I would shed a single tear watching William Wallace die at the end of Braveheart (the GREATEST love story ever). Tonight, while unwinding from a particularly long night at work, I started surfing blogs and came across this post on one of them. It reminded me of how I came to getting the tattoo I have on my left wrist and what it means to me (more on that another day).

"Those who have made the deaf and dumb their study tell us how much the power of speaking depends on that of hearing, and how the loss of hearing in children is followed by that of speaking, too. ... To offer a prayer--to give utterance to certain wishes and to appeal to certain promises--is an easy thing and can be learned of man by human wisdom. But to pray in the Spirit, to speak words that reach and touch God, that affect and influence the powers of the unseen world--such praying, such speaking, depends entirely upon our hearing God's voice."

--Andrew Murray, With Christ in the School of Prayer, copyright 1887