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.

(Letter #1,751)

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.

(Letter #1,750)

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.

(Letter #1,749)

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.

(Letter #1,748)