Saturday, January 4, 2020

How is your world ordered? Where is my place in it?

Am I the burden-bearer, the consoler, the lover, the tidings-shouter? O these choices, Lord, the path forks and forks again. I rest at each, the bewildered one.

Feeling my way in the cave, what shall I encounter? A bear, treasure, a forgotten lair to make my own?

Lord, I have walked these paths before and will again. You were with me then, as now.

All is well, no matter my choices. These forking paths are all within your garden.

(Letter #1,820)