Dear God, faced with the trials of the day, let me limit myself to the simple task of seeking your will in each circumstance.

I do not need to know the ultimate destination of the path upon which you have placed my feet. The immediate next step, here in this moment, is always clear. I dither only because I hope it may ultimately turn one way, or I fear it may turn another. Yet if I narrow my concerns to now, the burden of deciding is lifted. Now contains no decisions, only the easy response of the servant: yes, I will.

Dear Lord, let me say yes, even amidst the unmoored fear that washes over me. Let me better rely on you, let me be more watchful for your signs, let me be grateful for how you are already, unseen, answering my prayers and protecting me.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #1462)

Dear God, let me have humility today. Let me see how I am just one among many. Let me seek no special recognition. Let me try, instead, to be anonymous.

Let anonymity be my devotion.

(Letter #1461)

Dear God, let me be generous today.

Let me devote my resources toward building others. Let my gratitude flow toward others’ success. Let my comfort come last.

Thy will be done today.

(Letter #1460)

Dear God, let me have acceptance today. Let me not bang on shut doors, grasp for more than my share, nor rebel against restraint and affliction. These things take place in a realm that does not touch my true heart. They are momentary and pass. The truth of you, dear Lord, remains.

And yet, amidst worldly events, I console myself. Let me set aside this self-pity and live.

(Letter #1459)

Dear God, let me create silence today, that we may hear your soft voice.

What I hear let me pass it along equally quietly. Let me not shout from rooftops nor in open fields – let me murmur into the ears of my fellows who lean in.

Let those who wish to hear find me.

(Letter #1458)

Dear God, here I sit, an instrument in a drawer, awaiting use. O! What will you build with me? A hammer cannot wield itself.

Today, resting, let my edges remain sharp and my surfaces smooth. Let no rust collect. Let me improve my function.

Polish me, sharpen me, Lord, through use.

(Letter #1457)

Dear God, even in these early hours, they come to me. I am awake, Lord, let me not wait to spread your love. I closet myself to prepare for the day, and you send the day to find me, to bestir me. What do these friends seek? Kind words, a soothing gaze.

Let me act with fondness, dear Lord. Every resource I have, let me pass it on. Let me be a clear stream from which my sisters and brothers may drink.

Let me hold nothing back: you will replenish me anon. Others need this water more than do I. Let me flow.

(Letter #1456)

Dear God, let me look with clear eyes upon this world. I dress up events into stories that feature me as protagonist. I am the center of what I see.

Lord, let me take a broader view. The stories I apply to the world are imaginary. There is no dramatic arc to my days.

Let me accept this gift of this day without the need to add my own embellishment.

(Letter #1455)

Dear God, let me love my troubles.

Let me treat each like an old friend.

(Letter #1454)

Dear God, let me try to demonstrate generosity today. Let me be simple about this.

Each moment holds an opportunity to act against self. Let me take it.

(Letter #1453)