Wednesday, August 7, 2019

I remember walking with you. You held my hand, you guided my feet, you sheltered me. You whispered encouragement into my ear.

Where now do I find myself? The winds howl and I do not hear your voice. I run. I hurl my fists, breaking away from you.

Will you quiet me, dear Lord? When I move slowly I can hear and feel you. My feet regain their footing. My hands loose their grasping.

Let me unclench my fists and hold again your outstretched hand.

(Letter #1,670)