Dear God, I am like a pond with no outlet, thinking of myself and my petty concerns. I seek your strength, yet for such small things. What a misuse of this time, of this earthly body. I seek merely to survive, to improve my position – Lord, let my aims improve.

Grant me supply, O Lord. Bring to me a new view of life and of my place in it. Let me give to others, let me spread your love widely. Let me think of my own needs and doings last. You have always supported me in all things, brought me here, safely. Why, therefore, do I insist on taking my security first in line? If I stand last, if I receive last, then I am still saved nonetheless.

Let my life have outlet. Let me be a source of comfort to others. I will be taken care of soon enough.

Let others stand before me in line.

(Letter #1172)

Dear God, I consider the day ahead.

Please divorce my thoughts from selfishness, dishonesty, resentment, and fear. Let me have true concern for others, let me be fully honest, let me not be envious, let me have true and deep faith.

The day towers ahead of me, and as I look ahead I feel so many fears. Of what do they consist? Simply, anxiety over having obligations. I wish to sit idle, rest without requirement – so every duty therefore feels insurmountable.

Lord, let me have energy. Fill me with industry and willingness. Thy will be done.

(Letter #1171)

Dear God, thank you, O Lord, for drawing near to me. For so long I have sought you and pursued you with desperation. Never did I find you. I look back and see now that it is you who found me.

I am sorely tempted to attribute my faith to effort on my part, to my persistent prayer, to my daily attempt to live as you would have me do. In truth, these attitudes are prideful and false. I cannot say I hold faith due to any special virtue – no, you snuck up upon me. You came to me without warning, without announcement. I simply realized one day that I believe, and that I had for some time.

Your arrival in my life has no date nor duration. You are here, with me. You have always been and always will be. You, Lord, are my supply, my source, my root.

Let me rise from here and glide through the day blown by your wind. Let me seek nothing, but instead exist in expectation of your support. Take away my pride and selfishness, my self-regard, my self-congratulation.

You gave yourself to me as a gift —the same gift to make available to all. You will come to others. To all of us. We need but open our eyes to see you.

Let me be awake to you, O Lord. Let me awaken my fellows, nudging them with the good news.

You are here! You always have been.

(Letter #1170)

Dear God, hold my hand. Guide me through the day. Take me here and there, to the places you would have me act, at the times when you would have me do so. Let me not cast my gaze forward and forward, into my fantasies about tomorrow. Here, now: keep me here.

You take me by the right hand and guide me. My strong hand. The one that would be otherwise filled implements, tools, weapons even. But your strong hand fills mine and pulls me.

My weak hand is left to the work and I face a choice: pursue mastery and let go my grip on you, or accept your power and trust you to guide my work in all my clumsy weakness.

Let me trust you, O Lord! Even beyond my own imagined power. Let me not pursue mastery but instead dependence.

Let me, Lord, do your will, as simply as I can manage in all my personal weakness. Let me see my faith as all the sufficiency my tasks require. O my Lord, thank you for this sense of dependence.

(Letter #1169)