Dear God, what is it that there is different between this morning and the one before? Or the one to follow? My part in each is the same: to awaken and begin to seek your will for me. The routine tasks of preparing the day provide a steady rhythm. The slow drumbeat of each day following its brother soothes me.

Yet on this day, the morning quickens my heart. Some mystery lurks around the corner, a surprise prepared with dimensions only I can see. You made it for me.

O, Lord, you thrill me! Why do I so often flee in terror from this celebration you have arranged?

God, let me be attentive to these feelings coursing through my body. The hastened breath, the tightened belly. I am the racehorse at dawn, quietly chewing oats, knowing that soon I will called to race.

Lord, let me make ready to run.

(Letter #1309)

Dear God, my motives are so disappointingly childish. As I face the tasks of the day, my actions and attitudes are driven by my desire for notice, leisure, and pleasure. I arrange things to suit, corrupting even my good actions into selfish ones.

Like any child, Lord, you gently teach me. You bring me brief glimpses of right living and right attitudes. The actions I undertake driven by you are so much more satisfying than my too frequent self-driven ones.

Lord, let me do your work today.

(Letter #1308)

Dear God, bit by bit, you strip away what is objectionable. You wear away the edges, you cut out the mistakes and disease. And what is left, O Lord? Am I diminished? No: I am ever more naked, ever more as I was born to be.

Let me stand unadorned and calm, Lord, blinking at all that circulates around me. I had no need of that lost garment, that dropped staff.

And now, Lord, with so much removed, what will you replace it with? Am I to remain as I now am, or will you grow me new features?

Lord, let me make ready to become new.

(Letter #1307)

Dear God, let me rely upon you entirely. I fall so far short in this.

I ask for what I want to be delivered to me; for what I do not want to be taken. I should instead accept all, pleasure and discomfort equally, as your will for me.

Equally wrong: I hoard. I withhold my energy and effort, I pace myself. This limits my ability to spread your love, and beyond that, it is disloyal. It implies doubt that you will supply my needs as they come.

Lord, let me abandon myself to you fully. Take away these misgivings, make me willing to quit relying on half measures. Let my footsteps be firm. Let me throw open my gates, drain my coffers to help those around me. You will fill them again later.

Lord, let me live a life that is truly vulnerable.

(Letter #1306)

Dear God, why do I fear so? Worry about the near and far all at once assail me. I fret over minor arrangements and activities in this day. At the same time, my thinking casts forward toward tomorrow and after – when I fear calamity will befall. I panic, bit by bit, thought by thought.

Lord, help me. I am so small in the face of these terrors. I know when I face them squarely that all will be well, but this feels like simply an intellectual exercise, the whistling of a child in the dark.

Worry is tangible, present. Sitting here with me.

Lord, displace my fears. Occupy my mind and hands, turn my attention to what is needful in the day. I beg of you: let these worries lift. Take them.

(Letter #1305)

Dear God, let me run after this day.

I shut myself away to ready myself to better seek your will. Let me arise with new strength – and run. You have filled the day with gifts for me – some shining and light, others whose beauty is difficult to discern. Let me gladly find them all.

Thy will be done, Lord.

(Letter #1304)

Dear God, let me live love today. Let me bring it to every action, every word, yea, every thought. Let even my dreams be ones of love for those around me.

Let not my attitudes nor intentions be selfish. The love I have and express – let it be giving. Let it be pure charity, seeking nor expecting nothing.

Love is the motive force underneath the world, O Lord. Love is the law. Love is the secret key.

Lord, let me understand love. Let me become willing to live it.

(Letter #1303)

Dear God, let me stretch out my hand to others. Let me walk as a friend among my fellows who suffer, who endure their darkest days.

You have revealed to me the good news that all is well. We already have all we need. All that is removed from me, all that I desire and do not have, all that I lack — trivia. If you have already granted me wholeness, then these things for which I pine are not needed. Let me seek only what is needful.

Let me share, O Lord. Let me bring this news into every corner. Where my fellows shiver, let me pass along your warmth. Where they ache, let me carry your balm. Where they struggle, let me carry some part of their load.

Let me seek no notice. Let me pass along your aid such that all who receive it wonder at the mystery of its source. Let me gladly be invisible, your light shining through.

Rather than shout, let me whisper: all is well, my friends. All is well.

(Letter #1302)

Dear God, the road from here to where you would have me be is long. I am so far from the examples you place before my eyes. I see so many who are giving of their time and energy, who hold themselves as true servants on this earth. I long to be as you would have me be, yet inwardly I plot how to advance my position, I scheme ways to find myself idle, I arrange events to suit myself above all.

Seeing how large is the gap between whom you call me to be, and who I am, I am crestfallen.

But lo! There is a road from me to you, laid out at my feet. Let me step along it, Lord, let me walk your way. Each day I forget this walkway; each day I must bring myself to it anew.

I seek you, dear Lord, as if youbare hidden. But the way is clear. I need not walk blindly nor fear traveling in darkness. If I step toward you, you will come to me. I have felt it – and will again. You will take my hand and gently pull me.

The blind do not see the distance to be traveled, yet they walk nonetheless. Let me have such faith, Lord. Let me not cast myself to the ground in defeat.

Let me walk toward you.

(Letter #1301)

Dear God, grant me a clear view. I look at the events around me, the actions and words of my fellows, and fail to see underneath the surface. I refuse to look quickly enough for my part in conflict, I forget to gaze with compassion on my fellows, I overlook your love and will behind all things.

Lord, open my eyes and my heart. Grant me courage to act upon what I see. To do your will fills me with fear. So often, the clear action you call me to take is the one I wish to avoid: a painful sacrifice, a difficult conversation, a frustrating lesson of self-forgetting.

Lord, make me willing in the face of my worries and fears. The pain in my life grows out of my reluctance to surrender to your will.

I struggle so. I am a drowning man, panicked and pushing away the rescuer. Daily I swim against the tides. Let me stop straining against the current, Lord. Pull me gently to shore – let me become willing to be rescued.

Thy will be done. Let me believe what I pray.

(Letter #1300)