Dear God, let me be fully obedient to your dictates. Let me hold nothing back, neither in my actions nor in the listening for your direction. If I do not hear your guidance it is my hearing that must be improved. Let me listen and listen harder.

Your commands, Lord, are mysteries. Why this action? Why not another? These questions arise out of my own twisted thinking. I am second-guessing. I am evaluating you, O Lord. The height of arrogant folly.

God, let me believe what I hear and let me so act. Your instructions are simple and instead of obedience I meet them with resistance and disbelief. Let me be your silent instruments today, Lord, doing your bidding.

I seek to spread the joy that comes from your perfect love, yet I pollute your message through doubt and obstinacy. How can I pass on what I do not embrace? Let me uphold your every command, without thought of self.

(Letter #1198)

Dear God, my mind is so unruly, leaping from thought to thought. So, too, is my will. Leaping. I have so many motivations and intentions, the one cascading upon the other, endlessly.

My thoughts, O Lord, are a busy city square. How can such chaos be brought to heel? I am powerless in the face of this constant babble of selfishness and self-seeking.

God, order my thinking. Simplify my inner life. Crowd out the thoughts of self, let them slip to the periphery, let them become no more than roaming dogs at the edge of the encampment. Keep them at bay. Let them, indeed, slip away to find others to vex. Leave in their wake, O Lord, a placid clearing and a safe sleeping ground.

Leave behind a quiet and simpler will, obedient and tamed.

(Letter #1197)

Dear God, let me look unsparingly at myself. I build illusions of good motives. I listen for, seek, and believe the praise of others. All so comforting.

In truth, O Lord, I am too often driven forward by selfishness, moved by fear, consumed, even, by resentment. Lord, remove these motives. Let me see them clearly.

Let me not fool myself.

God, let me place you at the center of my actions. Show me how I might do that. Shine grace upon me, as you have done before.

(Letter #1196)

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)