Her lips were moving, but there was no sound leaving them, only the warm exhale and inhale the tell tale sound that those movements had purpose, instilled with the emotion of her swelling heart, levees splitting open and dark waters rushing forth.

She prayed, silently, with her heart. With fear with hope. She prayed, face down, hands clasped begging, pleading praying. She sobbed, gasping noises, hay clinging to her dress, knees bruising, muscles aching, begging to be used. The wind rustled the flap of the tent, sending another wave of fear through her body, sobs shaking her world now, frantic whispers sliding off her tongue. The snorts of cattle came from outside, small jumps at the softest sounds. What atrocities had she committed against Him? Had she not followed His teachings word by word? Devoted, and unquestioning, lovingly, with faith and unquestioning loyalty? The tent flap opened, coaxing a whimper from her sore throat. A deep voice made her cringe and fold into herself, rough hands pulling her up, sliding off her clothes.

She prayed, and she prayed, in her heart, with her soul, mind wandering to a lush garden full of beautiful flowers and animals of all walks in life. A painless existence. Paradise. Alas, there was silence.