i remember how when we were young,
my brother would always pray
not as if he was starting,
but joining in on a conversation 
already in motion.
“and God,” 
he would consistently begin.
“and God,” an ongoing conversation 
with a father who already listened.

later as i became an ‘expert’ prayer
storming the gates of heaven with 
request after ardent request,
i began to grow tired and stretched
and wondered if perhaps 
something 
was inherently amiss…

and while it didn’t appear a gift at first,
i was gifted a season of fragility
where i could do little else
but to sit 
and wait. 
heart wide open,
because that heart was broken.

and instead of all the effort
intensity, the endless cries of ‘should,’ 
the most i could muster was to 
open my eyes,
locate His face
and learn 
that no matter what i did or didn’t do, 
the eternal kindness
of his gaze was always fixed on me.

and together we would sit in silence
until maybe a word or a phrase 
bubbled up and overflowed.
and sometimes he’d whisper back,
“i’ve got this,” or other things like these,
but i would always be reminded that
no matter how weak i am, he’s strong.
and no matter how lonely or tired
discouraged or spent,
he is a fountain of living water fresh

i learned again that prayer
is about connection 
and that i was never meant to power right in
to consume a product, 
make a transaction

but to pause and reflect 
that our Father in heaven is already here,
and when i turn towards his magnificent
loving, powerful gaze
—it’s already turned towards me. 

so really, “and God,” is actually a perfect way
to join back in on this 
ongoing conversation
again.

heather pound 2026

Photo by Hanny Naibaho on Unsplash