Friday, July 5, 2019

How can all these things that come to pass be by your design, when they vex me so? Amidst woe, where is your will for me?

Lord, let me have the grace to ask. Let me seek after your will, even in the most trying times.

Let me feel my tiny hand in yours, even as gales blow and dust stings my eyes. Hold me fast, Lord, and let the winds strengthen me.

(Letter #1,637)