Dear God, I have cried out to you so many times. The list of my pleas is long. Like a child, I ask and ask.
Lord, let me see clearly how you already have graced me with unimagined providence. I need not wait for some later satisfaction. Piled all around me are the gifts I need. My portion for the day is already in my hands. And yet I cry out for more, disguising greed under a cloak of weakness.
Let me arise, stand erect, stride forward with your power at my full disposal, your wind at my back.
I need not hope for some improved future. I already inhabit it. Let me recognize and give thanks for these treasures.
(Letter #1107)
I am powerless over all these things around me: these circumstances, these comings and goings of others, these moods that fall upon me like storms or drift by me like mists. These outcomes.
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