Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Dear God, I torment myself with the stories I tell myself about the events of the day. Every occurrence means something, signifies something, and as the central character, it all affects me. This is a recipe for desperation. In this drama of my own design I am constantly beset by forces, required to overcome difficulties, to lead into frightening places.

But my stories are fictions. The day unfolds and I respond – the sun does not rise upon me like a stage curtain over the star, nor over the villain.

Lord, let me view this world as neutral and my role as neither exalted nor despicable. Let me pursue one aim: to improve the conditions around me, that others may benefit.

Let the stories I tell myself dissipate like mist under your sunshine. Leave behind my strong, calm, loving, best self. Let this person stride with purpose through the day you have arrayed. Let me do your will.

(Letter 987)