Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Dear God, you have reordered my thoughts. What I value is not what my fellows do.

Living apart from others, a foreigner, is wearing. I dwell among shadow people. At these times the world barely touches me. Nor, indeed, do I register. I glide, a cipher. Others speak, I speak, and we might well be speaking different tongues.

Lord, let me feel your friendship. I am weary today and feel alone.

(Letter #1,585)