Thank you for all that is to come my way.
Thank you for the forthcoming rescue, for the words that will come just when they are needed, for the support that will arrive when I am weak.
Thank you for the lessons I am to learn and the humility I am to be driven into.
Lord, I will praise you before I have reason to. Let others see and join.
Thank you for sustaining me. Thank you for directing my steps. Thank you for protecting me from harm.
The ambitions and desires of a year ago, of yesterday, have been burnt away. They have passed, let them remain dead. Let me walk out into the day as an empty vessel. Fill me with this moment.
Thank you, Lord, for all that is coming.
Let the pathway of the day be a demonstration of your power in my life. Alone, I am so small and fearful. Enter my spirit, Lord, and order my steps.
I cover my eyes, expectant. Do I wait for a blow to fall, or for a sweet surprise? This thread of energy running through my heart gives no sign.
Lord, let me be as a trusting child, playing in the woods.
Here, I walk this path. I see choices along it, every step: do I place my foot there or here, do I walk under shade or in sun? Yet the path follows the same course, and I arrive at the same place, no matter.
Preoccupied by trivial choice, I may have walked by, blind to the entrance to a new road. Which forks did I miss?
Lord, let me see my true choices today.
At dawn, I inhabit this moment with clarity. I feel my feet on the ground, the air on my skin.
At noon, all is forgotten. I am in churning seas and howling wind, working out how to rescue myself.
At day’s end, I am gripped by reflection on recent hours. What have I done, what did I not do?
Lord, of all the gifts you have bestowed, this morning moment shines brightest and disappears most quickly.
O! Let me bring it with me into every corner of the land upon which I may walk.
I mistake idleness for waiting on your guidance. I mistake distraction for education. I mistake my darting from task to task, like a minnow, for proper effort.
Lord, rain in my unruly thoughts and order my steps. Let this be the day I fulfill your word.
Each moment, a handful of clay placed before me. I am free to shape them as I please. This is your gift: the clay, my hands, the freedom to make what I choose.
What will I do with this clay? Shall I make a useful mug? A decorative object? A weapon? An image of myself?
Lord, let me choose and make well.
Where I would run, let me glide. Where I would press, let me invite.
Today, Lord, let me whisper.
If I am to be a river, let me flow gently.
I am preparing for your visit.
I arrange a room, clean my dwelling, lay in stores. You are the royal guest, the long-traveling child, the returning friend. What a celebration there will be when you arrive.
Making ready for you is itself a joy. I will sing a tune while I scrub the floors.
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