Friday, November 29, 2019

Weeds grow. The wind blows debris across my doorstep. Dust settles on surfaces.

Lord, even through a neglected space, I glide unspotted in your arms.

Let not my eye light on specks of mud, Lord, for you have taken me by my right hand.

Up the path goes, to vistas and bracing wind, where I will flourish.

(Letter #1,784)

Thursday, November 28, 2019

Who is in whose care?

I have become a custodian, husbanding and passing on your love to my fellows.

And I am also in your care, preserved for some duty you have yet to reveal.

You saved me, Lord, and now I will give you to others.

(Letter #1,783)

Monday, November 25, 2019

Let me love those who do not love me.

Let me give thanks for difficulties.

Let me promote others before myself.

Let me give away my resources.

I will become an empty pitcher. Thank you, Lord, for my ability to hold the water that will quench my parched fellows.

(Letter #1,780)

Sunday, November 24, 2019

Alone, in a boat, at sea, attached by a fraying line, a desultory knot. Are you at the other end, Lord?

How long and how far have I been drifting?

Will you make your way out to me if I pull?

Let me set aside my oars and come home.

(Letter #1,779)