Saturday, December 15, 2018

Dear God, you invite me; I need but move my feet your way. Your pathways are broad and easy. Why do I take instead the stony, narrow way? Why do I turn off into brambles and up switchbacks? I soon find myself in thickets with brackish ponds. Perversely, it is only with reluctance that I turn back to rejoin your easy roadway.

Lord. I need but decide to walk with you and you then walk with me in return. If I draw near you reveal yourself. You knock and I need only answer to see you. All this ease, yet I make my own way hard. Save me from my self-made difficulties.

My troubles? I seek them and so they appear. My worries? I invite them as surely as the dawn comes. I awaken and don my own shackles, then when I retire I whimper at my own imprisonment.

This iron around me is gauze.

Lord, let me blink open my eyes and remake this daily decision to follow your easy way. Let me leave these troubles in a heap by the roadside, and walk gently with you in company.

(Letter #1435)