You need me to take the details of the world and pray lucid prayers when my heart is quite otherwise. Lately all I can muster are jumbled letters that God has to unscramble before they make a lick of sense. So save yourself some embarrassment and don’t ask me to bless the eggs unless you’re comfortable with suessy word-lobs like rupiefonb (I prayed that nonsense for a week). God finally answered: ibuprofen. I said willikers, I’d of never guessed that one. After a pause God said you’re here to be curious as much as consoled.