God wants to hear your prayers again, work-worn as you are, the hours so long, yet a quiet respite with Him awaits, sit down for a few minutes- close your heavy eyes, imagine a hammock anchored between two tall, inviting oak trees that have abundant shade on this mid-July afternoon, as you've eased yourself into it, it's slowly swaying, as neighborhood children in the pool next door playing, "Marco Polo", you're drifting over treetops, as crowded thoughts and worries are leaving, sleep arrives with silent celebration, swaying, scent of hydrangea in the aimless breeze, in a hammock, don't rush