I was laying down to pray and simultaneously thinking about him. When the thought intersected with my intention I said outloud, “it’s his turn to pray for me!” It’s his turn to ask God for a woman with my heart, charm character and faith. It’s his turn to solicit God to turn the uncommunicated whispers of his heart into the fingers that would interlace with his. It is his turn to wonder, to wish and to work. For a man who findeth a wife findeth a good thing.
And then I prayed for him. Not in the general sense but specifically. I asked that his days be well and his work be anointed. I stopped there and noticed the novelty in the moment. I was different.