My heart became hot within me. Blessed are the men whose strength is in thee, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. I incline my heart to perform thy statutes. The activity of the heart even carries over into our sleep. In the night my heart instructs me.
Te corda nostra somnient, te per soporem sentiant.
Our hearts dream of you, they have you in mind while we sleep. The heart is the organ of prayer, even when we are not conscious of what we are doing. Unlike the mind which is acquisitive, aggressive, critical, competitive, the distinctive mark of the heart is receptivity, openness, pliability-it is a place to be filled, a thing to be ignited. The heart thrives on stillness and quiet and delights not in its own cleverness but in the presence of the beloved. Perhaps some of you know the little book by Caryll Houselander, The Reed of God.