A rabbit crosses the path, pausing as I approach. It watches me, and then scurries off to the trees. Up ahead a girl comes down the path, book in hand. She sits down at the top step and opens the book across her lap. I pass by silently, and continue down the stairs. Three steps after passing her, she begins to read aloud. I slowed my pace, eavesdropping, as her words drifted into the night…

The swirls and actions and patterns of my day send my mind spinning. I’m losing control. There is so much I want to accomplish. So much I want to do. But it is not I. It is you. I so want to serve you. I so want every part of my being to echo you. But I stumble so often. I lose sight. I put you off. How can I want to serve you so badly, yet hardly make time for you? It’s the constant paradox. It’s the constant illusion of the lukewarm heart. No wonder you want to spit me out. But please don’t. Set me ablaze. Let the smoke rise from my heart like the burnt offering, and let my life be yours. Raise me from this bland existence and make me so much more. Make me yours…

Her words trailed off into the night as I descended the stairs, but they reverberated within me. I wanted so much to turn back and take hold of these words of wisdom. Words from an unknown book, read by an unknown girl. But something propelled me onward. Something kept my heart wandering.