All the ways that I remain asleep, let me awaken.

Let me feel each fiber of carpet beneath my feet, each stalk of grain brushing my palm. Let me be aware of each passing emotion, each fault, each virtue, each storm, each episode of brief brilliance.

Let me notice the small and ordinary.

Shake me awake, Lord.

(Letter #1,674)

The creatures of the forest stir and make their rounds. I walk the borders of my home. What traces do I find of the night’s visitors? What needs now repair?

My own steps will later become traces for others to find. What will I place in disarray? What creature’s home will my feet destroy?

Let me walk lightly today, Lord. Let me not grumble at the traces of the night.

(Letter #1,673)

Make me equal to the day. Let me look on it with equanimity. Breathe acceptance into me.

I mistake courage for faith, ecstasy for love. Sever my attachment to myself. Let me see myself through clear eyes.

(Letter #1,672)

Let me hoard nothing today. Let me abandon myself to your will, with no reservation.

I hold back, I husband my energies and resources, I protect myself. My faith thereby withers and I am a stagnant, murky pool.

Crack me open, Lord. Empty me. Let cool and clear water pass through me into the world.

Grant me the faith be generous.

(Letter #1,671)

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)

O! A wasteland grows in my heart. I look out my window see little growing, blinded by my selfish thoughts.

Where is the love I profess? I have built a hard shell and wrap my arms around my knees.

Dear Lord, pry me open. That is no desert. It teems with life. Melt my heart and let me see the world of fellows and friends you have prepared for me.

(Letter #1,669)

You have snuck up upon me when I was not aware. Here you are.

Animate me therefore. Move me throughout the day. Make me equal to what befalls me.

(Letter #1,668)

What a hard heart I have. I look upon the world with judgment.

Crack me open, Lord. There am I, in the faces of my opponents.

Let me smile warmly at my enemy, lay down my arms before my attacker, promote the one who undermined me.

Let me speak love even to the unlovable.

(Letter #1,667)

I see the objects with which you fill the world. The fellow friends you send my way, the crowds who mill. The landscape and skies.

Where, Lord, is the way to you? I do not see your hand behind it all, I do not see how few are the steps from me to you.

Daily I forget. Daily you gently bring me back to your pathways.

Let me move toward you today, though the way to you remains unseen.

(Letter #1,666)

Am I prepared to receive your blessings? Have I made myself ready? I sit daily in prayer – do I merely mouth these words?

O my dear Lord, lay me open and make me worthy. Let me relinquish these small goals, this striving and grasping, these bitter resentments. Let them all blow away, leaves in a strong wind.

Make me wholehearted. I want to be ready.

(Letter #1,665)