Thursday, April 19, 2018

Dear God, is there enough? Do I have enough? Will there be enough? Am I enough?

O, Lord, these worries nip at me. I keenly feel my small stature in comparison to all that needs doing. My brothers and sisters ache — how could I possibly bring them relief, with so few of my own resources?

I listen for guidance, yet not intently enough. I hear only partially.

Lord, your will for me is hidden. I do not even know the questions to ask. I am a child who cannot yet talk, I need simple demonstrations. Show me, Lord. Pull me along by the wrist where you would have me be, make plain the tasks you would have me perform.

And grant me courage. I am so small. I cower inside my rooms, afraid of the sunlight. Let me emerge, let me feel warmth, let it move my limbs. Sunshine, your love, brings energy and life — let me drink it in and pass it on.

I shiver, when just a step away brings relief. Overpower my sullen will, Lord, move me. Drag me to safety, even as I obstinately cling to these cold stones. Roll me over into the light, flip me on my back, let the sunshine warm my chest and face.

This is your love, your power brings ease even to the spent. Let me spread the news.

(Letter #1195)