Saturday, March 23, 2019

Dear God, this day stretches before me, equally long as yesterday’s journey. Why, Lord, am I sometimes weary and other times exhilarated? I have the same portion each day.

Ever before, you have brought me to day’s end and bid me rest. At dawn, my faith is an impostor. I imagine I must carry a burden along this road, and I wonder from whence the strength will come. Were my faith true, I would know with assurance that I will be supplied. No matter the task, I would face it knowing I was its equal.

Yet instead I fret and pray. Is that what you wish for your child, a life begging for scraps of capability?

Let my heart quicken. Let me run along the road, holding nothing back for later. When spent, let me nap like a baby, arise, and run on, laughing.

Sweet Lord, I know you watch me play, bemused while I show off my feats of balance and tiny abilities. Let me live as your child today.

(Letter #1,533)

Friday, March 22, 2019

Dear God, grant me strength to buoy others. Let me not hoard your treasure for myself.

As I give, you bestow upon me. Let me direct this infinite power toward the benefit of others.

Let my small aims wither. Burn away my self-regard. Thy will be done.

(Letter #1,532)

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Dear God, I have so long taken step after step as if in the dream, only waking occasionally. I blink and look around. How did I get here? Later, and fresh surroundings, I stop, blink, and ask again: And how did I get here, too?

Looking back each time I see faintly the trail of my footfalls. That must be where I walked, yet I remember not.

Lord, let me be awake for each step today, yea, even the most ordinary doings. You are with me at exalted times, at difficult times – and also at the most tedious times. Let me be awake to your presence persistently, constantly.

(Letter #1,531)

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Dear God, streams of cool water flow beside me, available to me in my weariness. So many streams, each itself fed by one smaller, tributary and branch.

Lord, I seek your aid and support – and it comes from so many quarters.

Yet I walk on, blind to the relief available to me if I but look a little more closely. Finally I am spent, and sit. Immobile, I can see the cool water trickling around me.

Open my eyes, dear Lord. I await rescue, but you have already delivered all I need and more.

(Letter #1,530)