Dear God, let me actively look for ways to aid and delight my fellows today.

You have granted me ease and joy; let it not stop with me. Let this stream of love enter me and then flow out. Let me be no miser – let me spend the riches you have heaped about me.

I am a candle you have lit, Lord. Let me glow.

(Letter #1408)

Dear God, let me give over this day to you. Let me set aside my own plans and desires — and sacrifice each moment.

Did I mean to sit in solitude? Yet you send me fellows who need aid. Did I mean to tidy my dwelling? Yet you hurl a windstorm through my careful arrangements. Did I mean to lay by stores for later? Yet, Lord, you send me calamity and my resources are needed now.

I depend so upon my plans and comfort. Let me welcome the upended day, yea, even the surprise at my door that brings worry.

Each yesterday, in succession, has prepared me to face the today you have made for me. Let my today ready me for tomorrow’s fresh surprise.

(Letter #1407)

Dear God, sure of my own thoughts, I so often have the urge to correct others’. A know-it-all, I point out flaws and errors in what others say and do. I cloak this arrogance and helpfulness in good cheer.

My corrections are kind and intended to bring others to the light – so I imagine. In truth, I am puffing myself up, feeling superior to my fellows. No matter how gentle my words, my corrections diminish my brothers and sisters.

Lord, root out this pridefulness and stop my tongue. Let me speak only humility and love today.

(Letter #1406)

Dear God, in this little knot of family and fellows surrounding me, let me see the outlines of your face. In the coincidence that works in favor of someone I love, let me see the shadow of your hand. In the words spoken to me that remind me of my purpose or correct my wrong thinking, let me hear the echo of your voice.

Lord, you are here with me everywhere. Let me allow myself to recognize this. Let me point it out to my fellows that they, too, may see your face — so close that your breath may be felt on the nape of our necks.

(Letter #1405)