Sometimes I pray, and my prayer turns into a big bright balloon bumping around in sky, weaving between cumulus clouds. My balloon goes headed to heaven, jostling thousands of other balloons on the way.
Do you think any of the balloons ever pop, get lost, go wondering to that place of desperation where they end up nestled in caves by the sea?
Do you think God ever rejects the prayers because the balloon is just too ugly, the string too ragged, the knot lop-sided and tied by kindergarten-clumsy fingers.
Do you think any of the balloons fall, deflate, flatten, get the wind knocked out of them, breath taken away in gasps, become discouraged, leave their carcasses abandoned along the road somewhere where no-one, not even God, knows there they are?
Balloon Prayers Abandoned.
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