God enters by a private door into every individual.

Nothing that reaches you at the deepest level arrives through the front hall where everyone can watch. It comes in by a way shaped to you alone, often at an hour you did not choose, in language borrowed from your own life rather than anyone else’s. That is why borrowed descriptions of it tend to fall flat, and why the account that moved someone else may leave you cold.

Stop waiting for your inner life to look like the version you have been shown. Notice the small, odd, particular things that reliably open you up, and give them more room this week than the approved ones.