These lands, at dawn, are so quiet, yet my heart thumps. Walking through mist and attending to chores, I tremble in my agitation and I am scarcely here.
Worry narrows my prayers: I seek relief from the most trivial of circumstances. Tired, I wish for a brief rest when instead you offer perpetual ease. Lonely, I pine for a moment of connection when instead you offer lifelong friendship.
Lord, I grip the railings, terrified I may stumble. You stand ready to rain abundance upon your children, my brothers and sisters. Let my hands open, that I may accept your gifts.
(Letter #1,758)