Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Filled with doubt, I open the front door to view the meadow. What has visited in the night?

With reluctance, I round the corner and encounter my fellows. How will they greet me?

Sullenly, I gather the tools needed for the day’s chores. What will be asked of me?

The questions I ask terrify me. Lord, here on my cushion, whisper courage to me.

(Letter #1,824)