when you pray, move your feet
The rain blurred his vision as he maneuvered the muddy terrain. The unfamiliar landscape was confusing. He kept moving. The noise of the water hitting the earth masked his movements. Bryan prayed as he continued his stealthy progress. He was miserable and cold but he couldn’t stop now. He ran, hid, prayed, and ran again. The same cycle over and over. He had to get away. He was almost safe. Run, hide, pray, run, hide, pray. It became a chant, his freedom so close, he needed to focus on getting there. When he was finally free then, then he could dream of what to do. Until that moment; run, hide, pray. The wall rose up suddenly before him. All he had to do now was scale it and he’d be free. This was the tricky part; the lights continually scanned the wall. Even in the rain he might be seen. One final prayer was offered as he ran with what strength he had left. Bryan must have had an angel looking out for him because to this day he couldn’t remember his feet touching the wall as he flew over it. As he landed he took his first breath in years as a free man. In that moment the dirty, wet air was the greatest smell on earth.