“Pray for interior freedom,” he said.
I chewed on that for a while.
It was raw and bitter and tough.
Because, as I chewed on it,
I realized
it has been in my own interior
reactions
to this and that and the other thing,
and
in my own interior
cravings
for this and that and the other thing,
where I have been bound by chains.
My unwillingness to forgive.
My need to be right.
My longing for reverence.
My demand to be loved.
Raw.
Bitter.
Tough.
“Pray for interior freedom,” he said.

*Painting credit: sargamgriffin.com