Dear God, let me be simple. I complicate so much, building castles of intellect. My own thinking obscures what is real and solid.

Lord, please let me abandon prideful musings. Let me seek simple truth, even as this is unappreciated by others. Indeed, let me not only accept their judgment but delight in being seen as meek and unworthy.

Let others jabber. Strip away the useless decoration in my thinking and attitudes. Lord, let me be plain.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #1287)

Dear God, will you come to me? Will you bring me the power I do not have? I face the dawn like it is an army arrayed against me, as if I am a fortress that must be guarded. At my core, what I protect, is a fearful heart. I feel it in my chest, quickening and thumping.

Lord, still my heart. Settle my thoughts. I recriminate myself for yesterday’s shortcomings. Let me not drag them throughout the day. If I have sought to make peace with my failures already, I need not fight that inner battle over and over.

Let me walk forward today with courage. Let me act, even as I fear. Let me not cower, nor shrink from the dawn. As you cause the sun to rise, you may yet deliver the gift of relief. To receive it, I need only surrender, rather than gird for battle.

Lord, let me surrender to your will completely — even if your will may be that I experience fear, that I can be a more compassionate friend to others.

Let me courageously lift up those who also fear.

(Letter #1286)

Dear God, I am so unwilling to become humble. I hope for advancement, for recognition at every turn, even as I mouth the words of humility.

When will I learn, O Lord? Over and over, I awaken to remorse at my prideful approach to life.

Let me learn a better way of acting and living. Lord, let me become grateful.

(Letter #1285)

Dear God: fear, fear, fear. I face so much today that frightens me. I worry I have not prepared myself well enough, that I have not completed tasks well enough, that all will see and despise my shortcomings.

Of what, in truth, am I afraid? The answer is simple: the judgment of others.

Lord, let me see through this illusion. Let me see truth today: what you would have me do and where you would have me go. Your love. Your forgiveness. Your grace.

Lord, in quiet and pleasant times I feel beatified by your love. In chaotic times I feel protected by the simplicity of your will. But it is in ordinary times, like today, that I fall farthest from you. These small worries loom so large.

Lord, repair my thinking. Grant me grace – let me focus on helping others and not on protecting my own status. Let me spread your words of love.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #1284)

Dear God, let me not dwell so on my own fear and worry. I face such simple challenges, yet I approach them as if they were matters of life or death.

A glance at the faces of my fellows reveals that they, too, carry heavy burdens of fear. That thing I find easy and routine, it may be seen by my neighbor as a fearsome enemy. Just as my looming dangers may be simple rocks in the road when others encounter them.

If we all harbor fear, let me then be a source of succor and love. If I spread relief, may it come back to me. Let me, Lord, trust that this supply will reach me.

(Letter #1283)

Dear God, you come to me not in the form of major events, nor as a disembodied voice. You visit me in the guise of other people, indeed you reside within others just as you reside within me. And yet I seek solitude, apartness – and I thus separate myself from you.

Let me, Lord, see my interactions with my fellows as a practice of devotion. Let me eagerly greet them and find your motivating spirit in all they tell me. If harsh words or ill feeling come my way, let me look all the harder for the gift hidden inside.

Lord, let me love.

(Letter #1282)

Dear God, let me look throughout this day for all the ways you guide and protect me. That turning where I might have gone astray. That footfall I might otherwise have placed poorly. That moment I held my tongue.

Your protection so often consists of turning my actions away from my own impulses. Saving me from myself.

Such an unruly spirit, I sow chaos unless restrained. Hold me down, soothe my trembling limbs as they press against you, let my breath slow. Release me gently when I can again move with purpose.

Lord, my mind darts here and there like a minnow. Let me become slow. Let me arrive last at all my destinations, allowing your will to unfold slowly across the day. Let my steps, my breath, my thoughts become measured.

Let others run. I will walk. Hold my hand, Lord, and walk with me. Let me feel your steady presence.

(Letter #1281)