He's listening, I know He is. He hears me. He asks in return. He asks me to start running again. He asks me to create space for His peace, space for His comfort. He asks me to be still, take time, and respond later. He asks me to trust Him. I come up with every excuse in the book and I tell him I'll try again tomorrow. Somehow, His grace finds me there. He and I both are ok with that.
I can feel God tapping on the door of the house of my heart, asking to enter in. And I'll say, "Haven't I been here before?," and He answers, "We've been here many times... over, and over again." I can't open the door. I stand with my fist and forehead against it, sobbing, wondering why I do this every time - let Him in just a little, then get so distracted that I don't realize I was the one to slam the the door that puts Him back on the other side. But now, I'm chasing after the beautiful things.