Dear God, you stand ready to enfold me in your love, if only I approach. Knock, you say, and I may enter. Do you then withhold from me, awaiting my call? No – even in my obstinacy, you raise me up on a glowing cloud, indeed you deliver joy whilst I stubbornly sulk.
Lord, your love is pervasive. I need not deserve it.
How can I live as you demonstrate, O Lord? Let me love my fellows even when bitter words flow my way. Let me gaze with love at a locked door, knowing it may open.
(Letter #1415)
