I have walked through brambles and wasteland to come here, yet you have left me untouched.

So, too, has ecstasy descended upon me, yet my pace is moderate.

This simple path, strewn with rocks yet looping through alpine shade, stretches from yesterday into tomorrow.

Today comes a judge, and I blink with equanimity.

The world is not the world. Thank you for this path of trials and miracles.

They will be done.

(Letter #2,392)

My rooms are tidy and in my habits there are no gross derelictions.

Yet what of the dim corners? What resides in my secret heart?

Make me willing, Lord, that even my hidden parts may be turned to the sun.

Let sunshine heal me, Lord, all of me.

(Letter #2,391)

I am passing out cups of cool water to my brothers and sisters. They thirst so. I worry I will run out.

You are a deep and bottomless lake, replenished by the rains and inexhaustible.

Why do I worry so over depletion? Let me hand out this water to all who need it.

(Letter #2,390)

Rescue after rescue. You have always saved me, pulled me out of the holes of my own making.

Why do I imagine you only visit when I am in need? Were you not with me when I set the mistakes in motion? Are you not with me here, now?

The runner does not fear the track, nor the crowds.

Grant me awareness of you, Lord, in my hands, my feet, my heart. You are already rescuing me and I have but to run a gentle race.

(Letter #2,389)

You send me out to do a task. If I am to build a wall, why should I fear the bricks? If you dig a trench, why fear the shovel?

And yet I cower in my rooms, delaying my entrance into the world.

Lord, let me see things clearly. A simple laborer, let me not fear my own shadow.

(Letter #2,388)

When I cry out in woe, I am already in your presence. I could whisper and you would hear equally. The rescue I seek, you do not need to rush from afar to give it.

If I am always in your presence, do I need deliverance? Do I not already have my protector and friend at hand?

Let me live awake to your presence today, Lord, protected in all things.

(Letter #2,387)

Deep in me, is there a calm or a churning worry? It is one then the other, all the day long.

Walk into my heart, Lord. Throw open the shutters and let the sunlight chase the shadows.

I cannot shut the door on the enemy, he is already inside. Only you can rescue me, let in the light.

(Letter #2,386)

Worries gnaw at me. Each so small, together they form a looming shadow.

Time unspools them; I will encounter them one by one along the road of this day. Each so small, easily dispatched.

Lord, you give me just what I need. Power, sometimes. Today, time.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,385)

I was beaten, and you sent rescue.

I cried out in despair, and you sent relief.

I was crushed by lack, and you sent plenty.

Yet in these early hours, I sit terrified of what may come: sorrow, ignominy, judgment.

Lord, let me see the gifts and rescue you have always provided. I already rest beside heaps of wealth.

(Letter #2,384)

Make me simple.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,383)