Dear God, I look forward to days without obligation, I rush through my tasks, I give only partial attention to chores. I pursue idleness and imagine it will be restorative. Yet evening comes and I look back and see nothing, the idle hours lost.

Lord, my body grows stronger through use. My mind sharper through practice. My relationship with you deeper through persistent seekfulness.

Let me, even on a day without obligation, be diligent in my seeking. Grant me vision to distinguish between idle times and restful times.

(Letter #1472)

Dear God, I see what I look for. Direct my vision. Order my thoughts that the world about me may flourish.

Let me think love: humility, generosity, acceptance, diligence.

Humility: let me rest anonymous.

Generosity: let me build up others.

Acceptance: let me rejoice in your workings.

Diligence: let me seek and do your will consistently.

Let me think love, look for love, see love growing around me like coral – alive, miraculous, diverse in its expression.

Your will is surely that we thrive, O Lord. Let me look for it.

(Letter #1471)

Dear God, I awaken and walk slowly, with careful attention, into your day. You have smiled upon me in the night. My core glows with peace. It gives me energy to move, speak, think with deliberate care.

My chores, I approach them as a ceremony. Even taking my seat becomes a sacred act. My feet carefully arranged on the floor, my hips pressed softly against the chair-back. My lids half-closed so the room becomes soft.

Lord, it is this glowing peace that allows me to stop time so. I live right here. A universe unfolds from this moment. Each one I can approach as a sacred ceremony, ancient, passed down, waiting to be executed with as much devotion as I may bring to bear. Exquisite in its ordinary components.

O! What rapture, Lord, this life of careful attention.

(Letter #1470)

Dear God, let me live acceptance today.

Trials beset me and I am afraid of challenges. I am so small in this world, my plans so inconsequential that they are swept aside by events. I am suddenly called upon to show strength, endure hardship, to help others, to comfort the week. Self-pity makes me a churning knot of worry, as I cower and wonder what will happen next.

Lord, let me accept the world as it is and, like a forest creature, set about tending to my day based on what is. The deer do not suddenly give in when there is snowfall. The bird does not cease flight when its nest is blown down. They attend to their tasks of living.

Lord, let me attend to my duties. These challenges that worry and vex me, let me accept them. Let acceptance grow and shove aside this self-pity.

(Letter #1469)

Dear God, I consider the day ahead. Even in this limited look forward I encounter worry and fear. Out of self-protection, I draw a tighter circle around my thinking, limiting, limiting it to the here and now.

Yet this I do out of desperation. It is not devotion to this moment but fear of the future that spurs me to think so.

Lord, why can I not look forward and view the gathering storms with equanimity, even joy? The ride will be fun! Yet I cleave to my slow path and cower, pretending it to be virtue.

The future will be a string of moments, no more nor less then the one now. Let me look upon them fondly, just as I do this one I am in. Lord, you are and will be with me throughout. If all is well, then too all will be well.

Grant me eyes to see truth, Lord, and the joy it contains.

(Letter #1468)

Dear God, large things are made of small things. Let me seek your will in all the small things. Let the small become my sole focus.

Lord, my mind wanders, it floats and darts. I pay attention to everything but what I hold in my hands – the small.

Let me seek you here and now, Lord, not elsewhere nor later. Let me improve at coming back to this small moment.

Here and now.

(Letter #1467)

Dear God, let me live diligence today.

Each moment is an opportunity to express my devotion through the choices I make.

Choices are my offering. Let them be worthy.

(Letter #1466)

Dear God, grant me an unsparing eye. Let me look at myself, my actions, my intentions without illusion.

Let me see all the ways, moment by moment, that I am driven by pride, selfishness, self-pity, sloth.

Let me welcome this clarity and see each instance as a chance to practice humility, generosity, acceptance, diligence.

Under this strong sunlight, Lord, let me thrive.

(Letter #1465)

Dear God, peering out into the dawn, do I view the day rightly? I see challenges and tasks, and I search for the right pathway through them. If only I walk the correct route, then the obstacles will be avoided. Fearsome beasts will lay sleeping while I creep by.

All this I imagine, scanning the morning. All a mirage.

Lord, correct the picture I carry in my mind. There is no puzzle to be solved, nor course to be run. This day is a string of moments, each a gift.

Let me be, dear Lord, expectant. Strike into my heart an eagerness. Make me curious. Let me live with no goal other than to be fully awake and grateful in each moment.

Instead, I worriedly look across the clearing, searching for the right trailhead.

There is no correct path through this day. O, Lord, such loving freedom you rain upon me! Let me turn my face to the sky with open mouth.

(Letter #1464)

Dear God, we have banded together, pooled our resources, and erected concrete walls against the wind. We huddle under metal roofs while the rain pours. We built a prison for our safety. We are our own jailers.

The rain that falls contains life. The wind blows me toward new friends. If I awaken, maybe I will see how standing apart might break the spell.

Yet even if I awaken, Lord, how then shall I bestir my fellows? Our band tragically sleeps inside while the woods drink in your rain and the flowers bloom.

Lord, while we sleep, let me have a sign. Shall I stand? Nudge the herd? Walk on? Sing joy?

Tell me, O Lord, how to awaken your love in my fellows’ heart?

(Letter #1463)