Dear God, let me be a friend today. Others may come to me lacking hope, or faith, or courage, or some other resource. Let me fill them with what you have given me, generously and without hesitation.

Let me not fear becoming empty. You have filled me and will again.

Love withers if I do not express it. Let me be a cool spring.

Let me be generous.

(Letter #1486)

Dear God, you see me. You see into me. I stand exposed in the noon sun, without secret and without cover. The tissue of illusion in which I clothe myself, and which I drape over the world around me, burns away.

What is left, Lord, is what is true. Bedrock. I stand upon it.

As I move out from here, as I act in the world, let me speak only truth. Let me see only what is real. Let me do only what you call.

Lord! You see through me. Let me, as your child, see through the paper wrappings of circumstance, and into its foundations.

(Letter #1485)

Dear God, if this day is a gift, let me not squander it. You awaken me with a full heart, with a song on my lips, with bright, shining eyes.

Toward what shall I turn these capacities? Shall I seek to advance my own position, to find comfort and ease — or shall I turn out from my lodging to greet my fellows? Shall I, Lord, live and spread love to all, yea, even those who vex and oppose me?

Let me sing sweetly to my fellows, a sparrow in the dawn gloom. Let me turn over my treasure to the thief, heap praise on the treacherous.

My duty is love. Let me tear into my work with head thrown back, laughing.

(Letter #1484)

Dear God, each day you renew the sunshine pouring down upon me. The mercy, the joy, the love. Abundant each day, and I need but see it.

Yet I twist myself into knots of worry, self-pity, resentment. Wrapped and closed so tightly, how can I receive what you offer? I am like a twisted rag.

Lord, loosen my grip. Relax my tensing muscles. Coax open my eyes and let me see that night has passed. Dawn is peeking in with all your promise.

My home is at the edge of a forest full of ghosts. They dissolve as the sun rises. Grant me eyes to see this meadow. Grant me eyes to see your love.

(Letter #1483)