safely dwell. I know where I can listen to the voice of love. But still I am restless, searching for what only you can give. Jesus, look at me in my struggle and show me your compassion. You cry out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me! Let anyone who believes in me come and drink!” But I hesitate and feel pulled in so many directions. Often I act as though you are not visible enough, not audible enough, not tangible enough. The world around me is so easy to see, to hear and to touch, and, before