Dear God, am I stretching out under warm sunshine, or cowering under harsh glare? It is all the same sun and you leave the choice to me. What freedom!
If you are love, dear Lord, then love also is you. As I spread love, according to your will, I also spread your dominion.
The sun shines regardless. Let me share with others how warming the light can be.
Dear God, behind today’s fear lies a greater fear, and behind that yet another.
I fear others – behind that, I fear that I will be judged poorly – and behind that still, I fear having my true nature exposed to myself. I am afraid that my self-image will shatter.
At core, then, my fear really is rooted in self. It is based in doubt that you, sweet Lord, love and support me. I pridefully think myself alone. Acceptance, under such a lash of selfish fear, is glum, reluctant.
Build my faith and let it be true. Let me accept this world and its movements eagerly, enthusiastically.
O! I make my own inner life misery by denying your love at its deepest core. Crack me open, Lord, and expose my raw skin to warm sunshine.
Dear God, I could rest; but let me instead walk on.
I could shy away from challenge, but let me instead turn to face it.
I could glance away from my sister or brother, but let me instead look into their eyes.
Lord, help me to choose the more difficult path today.
Dear God, hiding behind my bunker, I worry for what the day will bring. Enemy forces gather. Dawn on the battlefield.
Where, Lord, has my reliance upon you fled? Just days before, I felt you glowing in my heart.
This place is not yet a scene of conflict. Flowers unfurl, mist hangs. Why must I see it through a dark lens? Open my eyes to the reality around me. Everywhere I look, one sun shines on all. You favor no creature.
Snap me out of my fear-trance, Lord – and let me go on to awaken fellow and rival alike.
Dear God, would you have me dwell alone, apart, building careful walls and arranging rooms of clutter?
Who benefits from such lonely order?
Lord, you call me to circulate and bring messages of love. Let me labor in service to others and with good cheer.
Let me be generous with time, energy, and attention.
Dear God, this village is full of workers. Sisters and brothers turning their hands to all kinds of labor. Some sow, some build, some clean, some repair, some nourish.
As I roam among my fellows, in the quiet dawn mist, let me look for ways to be of help. If we all are to labor, then we all might aid one another.
When my hands are idle, Lord, let this be my discipline: to seek others I might help. Let the love I carry, your love, be tangible and no mere idea.
Dear God, come to me. Seep into my roots and flow through me. Nourish me in secret.
Take away my desire to preen and posture. Let me be plain, without decoration.
Let me work my life into a thing of usefulness. A flat table, a sturdy chair.
The last shall be first.