Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Dear God, my aims are so limited. More often than not, I seek only comfort, praise, and relief from fear. My goals arise out of my defects: sloth, pride, and fear. Lord, let me transcend this narrowness that shackles me.

The love you pour upon me is wasted on my meager plans. You grant unlimited power and with it I seek ways to gain the most trivial advantage.

My Lord, adjust my intentions. Let me meet your grand love with worthy objectives. Let me stand, with straight back, and stride through this day. I am neither beast, creature, slave, nor prisoner. I am your child. Your power and infinite love are my birthright.

Let me stop tinkering and fidgeting, building birdhouses and sand castles, but let me erect structures that match your magnificence. Lighthouses for my fellows, similarly blinded by self-delusion. Let us begin to see.

(Letter #1102)