The Kitchen Is a Sanctuary

I used to believe prayer required a closed door. For years I waited for a silence that never came, and I called the waiting failure.\n\nThen one Tuesday, with a toddler on my hip and a pot boiling over, I said out loud: "Lord, I am here." It was not eloquent. It was not long. But something in me understood that the altar had moved.\n\nScripture never promised us quiet. It promised us presence. The tabernacle sat in the middle of a camp of two million people — children crying, animals bleating, arguments over water rights. God chose to dwell in the noise.\n\nThis chapter is an invitation to stop postponing your prayer life until conditions improve. They will not improve. And they do not need to.