Dear God, at the quiet shore in the gray dawn, I arrange the rocks and branches. I brush away debris, and make all ready for those who may come later.

Who will happen by this place? What will they do? Will they recognize the care it received?

By then, Lord, let me have walked farther on, long gone. Let me leave no identifying mark. Let me seek no credit. Nor let me hide and peer from the bushes. Yea, let me forego, even, the smug satisfaction of seeing others’ enjoyment.

You moved me to make the way for them. Let me give thanks to you for the possibility that they may walk with more ease. Let me with gratitude move on to the next task.

(Letter #1,624)

Dear God, let me see others as you do. Let me look upon them with love and compassion.

Where I am vexed, grant me a wider perspective. Let me offer comfort and safety to all.

Grant me knowledge of your will for me and the power to carry it out.

(Letter #1,623)

Dear God, grant me new vision. Let me see you everywhere.

Let me not wait for you to reveal yourself, but seek you instead. Let me catch sight of you inhabiting the beautiful, and equally the homely.

You are already with me, Lord, though I have been crying out for you. Let me see how your hand is behind every small happening.

(Letter #1,622)

Dear God, this world stands in the way of my vision of you. These tasks and trials before me, they loom as if real and I fret over them. Thus you recede.

Lord, grant me right sight. These worldly challenges are beside the point. They are not my work. My work is to try to hear your guidance – to respond as you would have me do.

Remain in my vision, dear Lord. Let me not be distracted by the objects in this world.

(Letter #1,621)