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.

(Letter #1,747)

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.

(Letter #1,746)

Why do I rush into the day? It is as if I am fleeing my chambers. Lord, let the worry drain from my chest. Slow my panting breath.

From stillness, show me the direction to set myself walking. I will follow where you lead.

(Letter #1,745)

Good morning, my Lord. You have set my heart and mind ablaze with energy. To what end am I to act? This overflow, this abundance: let it not spill to the ground, wasted.

My heart pumps, my thoughts crackle. My back feels sturdy as an oak, my fingers nimble, my sight keen. I feel every wisp of inhalation as the air moves through my throat.

The world, in the present moment, glows.

O, how easy to be thankful when I receive such gifts!

(Letter #1,744)