I need a father. I need a mother. I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty.

My witness is the empty sky.

The sky is absolutely empty. Beautifully pure and empty.

As if the architects and builders would live in all the houses they built! Or could live in them all. It's obvious, it stares you in the fact. There <i>must</i> be a God and he <i>can't</i> know anything about us.

As for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves but does not speak … I want you to pray for me — that I let Him have free hand.

In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.

Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness, and I believe that this in itself is a word from God, that this is the sound that God’s voice makes in a world that has explained him away. In such a world, I suspect that maybe God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him.

I turned to speak to God
About the world's despair
But to make bad matters worse
I found God wasn't there.

It’s better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes.

I was as hollow and empty as the spaces between the stars.

Why is it that when we talk to God we’re said to be praying, but when God talks to us we’re schizophrenic?

God speaks in the silence of the heart.

Prayer begins at the edge of emptiness.

In the silence of the heart God speaks.

I never spoke with God,