If I am a mist that comes, rests, and is burned away by the sun — then let me cool my fellows while I remain.

All is impermanence; let me not pine for solid rock underfoot.

(Letter #1,694)

Let me give of my energies until I am empty, then let me give yet more. You will fill me up, you do so daily.

All that I hoard falls to rot. Let me pass love along to my brethren.

(Letter #1,693)

O, why do I scrutinize the many gifts you bestow? The sunrise beckons, yet I scowl at the chill wind. Ease comes, yet I resist over fears of idleness.

Lord, let me accept these treasures you hold out to me without demanding that each jewel be first polished. Let me turn my face to the sun, smiling, and walk this track. Let me laugh as I kick away stones rather than fear a turned ankle.

(Letter #1,692)

Let my day be one of unbroken service. Let me steal nothing, not a moment.

You fill me with energy and your sunshine. Let me pour it all out, generously and with joy.

What a strong back you have fashioned for me! Let me share it and carry my fellows’ burdens, singing a sweet and inviting tune.

(Letter #1,691)

In my selfishness, my indolence, my fearfulness— let me be helpful, industrious, cheerful.

Let me bring good will into the gloomiest of places. Shine upon where my feet fall, Lord, and let the warm light drive away the dampness.

(Letter #1,690)

Sun shines, shines down on this pathway, shines on my shoulders and warms my back. The joy it gives me is not taken from some others’ portion; there is always enough sunshine for all.

Lord, let me remain awake to you today. You shine and shine and shine. Let me reflect you onto my fellows.

(Letter #1,689)

The way is narrow, a twisting trail up from the valley. Switchbacks and stones, up and up.

Lord, you walk with me in my solitude, and hold my hand as I gaze down upon the stream below. Breathe my way and power flows into my pumping legs.

There is yet more to walk, and the path narrows yet more. We will walk single file. I feel you at my back, dear Lord. Press me on.

(Letter #1,688)

What is this miracle that visits me? My life is not filled with large events nor fantastic happenings.

It is my manner of life that is changed. Daily acts, small thoughts, mild words — ordinary magic.

Lord, let me be thankful for these quiet ways.

(Letter #1,687)

Few come by my dwelling. I rest single through much of the day.

Let me venture into the village and circulate among my fellows, dear Lord.

I may feel alone but there exists a community around me nonetheless. Let me act a citizen today.

(Letter #1,686)

The day is always the same duration, yet my experience of it varies so. Some periods fly by, others drag.

I have been given wealth beyond imagining, yet I sing a song of woe and malaise.

Let me take all these treasures you have heaped upon me, this physical well-being, this love from family, this ease of body, this community of fellows – and pack its remembrance into this dull day.

Awaken me, Lord.

(Letter #1,685)