Matt can smell the salt of your tears in the air…your quiet sobs loud in his ears.

You’re at the altar for the third time this week and it’s only Tuesday…

He hears the breaking in your voice…the desperation in your pleas to God. He knows a lot about you from nights like these…he listens…from a distance of course. Always in the depths of the shadows or the attic of the church…listening to you talk to God at the alter.

Tonight is different though…he can tell…