On a page immediately before Preface

We are aware of Him.

Holding a child at the campground, stillness in the air. Or at the seashore the low whisper of the ocean, like breath, the air heavy with salt and scent.

Something happens at the ocean. Seems I should remember a hundred other days, or thousands, though I was not there.

Memories stir restless inside, though, and an ability to follow them as one might track the scent of baking bread.

Something more than hunger, a light and elusive thing. Maybe frogs in a calm pond, deep in the woods. Something is there, and some thing calls to us. This is why we need to talk.

We live in a world with many clues. And there is this One, this spirit, this presence that stalks us. Some feel it is a monster. They are scared. And yet it is not a monster, just something mostly unseen. In our time we have done our best to escape His clutches. We do not want to be changed.