Sunday, May 12, 2019

Dear God, the whirlwind blows, yet not a leaf is moving. It is in my heart, this tumult. Worry gnawing at me, confusion biting my heels. My head spins with fear.

Lord, pluck me up and hold me tight like a squirming child. I have frightened myself. Sing softly into my ear, slow my breath. Shine light into the dark corners and show me there is nothing there after all.

The storm I battle never was. It is within my mind. All around me is calm. Open my eyes, Lord, to all the ways I have always been in your care.

(Letter #1,583)