Sometimes I feel like God is as far away as the cross on the top of the tower at my church, which is to say: 100 feet away, against the sky, me standing with both feet on the ground.

Hello, I cannot fly.

But I can sing you a song I once learned, from down here.
Listen to the now-gone Keith Green sing about how his eyes are dry but he wishes they weren’t.
Read Psalm 70 over and over until the book opens to that page with little prompting.

This is my offering this summer.

100 feet is not that far.

It’s still close enough

for you to see me

for you

to listen.

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