My heart swells as I approach the river. The smell of water quickens my steps.

Are the banks that different from the meadows I walked through anon? Simply being near the current, is it enough?

Wherefrom this anticipation?

I am witness to power, even where there is no drama.

Lord, let me give thanks for even the slow moving creek.

(Letter #2,895)

I glimpse a corner of you at dawn, and the selfish pieces of me shrivel and wilt.

Remake me, Lord. The loss of what I was before may bring pain, but the sun warms my limbs. I am eager.

Let me walk your way.

(Letter #2,894)

A spark in me, a spark in my neighbor, a spark in my opponent.

You reside in all. How can I bear such good news? It burns away the worry over inconsequential trouble.

Let me tend the sparks in me, in others. Let the warming flames mingle.

(Letter #2893)

Peace is what you offer. Not the calm of placid surroundings, nor the lack of conflict — but the quiet of mind. This is a mountain to climb.

Am I ready for it?

Grant me willingness to be at peace, Lord.

(Letter #2,892)

Lord, you lead me out into a large place, a flat field under bright light. I have anticipated this day with fear.

The crowds I thought would jeer me, where are they? My fellows look on with encouragement. They beckon.

It was never to be a trial, but a homecoming and celebration. I am the prodigal, forgiven and fed.

Lord, let this morning worry burn away like mist.

So long I wandered. I am home.

(Letter #2,891)

I face today’s battle, a warrior at dawn. What do I carry?

Yesterday has burnt to ashes, tomorrow not yet formed. Let them remain as they are.

All I need, then, today, is sword and shield.

(Letter #2,890)

In the quiet, it is so easy to seek you. Nothing presses and the day is yet cool.

When woe befalls, do I seek you then? At noon when judgment is hot?

Grant me cool and clear presence, Lord, that I may turn to you even in the midst of forgetting myself.

(Letter #2,889)

I go from spot to spot. Am I seeking you, or are you driving me toward society?

The seed pushes down roots as it also pushes up a flower into the air. When I see the flower, do I also love what is unseen?

Days alone, in solitude. Invisible work, seen only by you, Lord. Let my life flower due to strong roots.

(Letter #2,888)

Am I the hammer or the nail?

Do I hold fast, or cause change?

One of many instruments at the ready, let me find my highest use, Lord.

(Letter #2,887)

The trails crisscross and there is no clear direction. One leads to another and folds back again.

One foot in front of the other, Lord. Breathe in, breathe out. These are your directions in a land of no direction.

Lo, in the midst of the barest life, comes another traveler. More hungry than me, I can offer food. Injured, I can sit with them.

No wonder, Lord, that you slowed me down, for I might have stepped over this one lying by the road.

Let me give thanks even for my halting pace.

(Letter #2,886)