Dear God, outside my door, along the pathways, what is already growing?
This forest, this land, is abundant. I look at a bare patch and wonder how I will fill it in. I worry for the winter, yet under my feet grass grows.
Yea, even were I to plant, I misperceive my strength. It is the seed that does the growing; I merely place it.
Lord, let me see your gifts, your love, already emerging.
(Letter #1497)
