Thursday, July 12, 2018

Dear God, the circumstances in which I find myself afraid are so predictable. The fear always has at its root my desire to protect my status. Lord, such trivia consumes me. Deliver me from these needles of care, let me float above my own worries. They amount to nothing.

God, I know you will meet my needs with supply. You will meet my cares with ease.

Instead of trying to console myself, let me set about carrying the good news to others. We will all be okay. We are already okay.

(Letter #1279)