Saturday, March 3, 2018

Dear God, you impede me. You slow me down. You place obstacles in my path, you whip up a wind against me as I walk.

I see difficulties. Yet my slow movement causes me to look anew. What have you delivered me in the form of this resistance? You have bestowed on me the red for care — the opportunity to slow my pace and to make my footsteps meticulous.

Lord. I am blown back as I try to walk forward. Let me see clearly how futile it is to exert more effort. Your conditions overpower me. No: let me slow my pace yet more, pick my way through the fallen brush, let each small step build upon its brother.

Care. You give me the wherewithal to take care. O, let me recognize this gift.

Let me shred my list of goals for the day. Let it fall to pieces around me. You call me to step slowly, abandoning urgency. Let my efforts bend toward this.

Show me the universe of accomplishment hidden in stillness and slow movement.

(Letter #1148)