Monday, January 13, 2020

A pile of debris to clear; a throng of fellows to console; a willful mind to restrain. Lord, the demands of the day seem insurmountable. All I have are hands, yet so much more is needed.

Let me call to you for help. Where would my faith be were I capable of meeting every challenge without aid?

My weakness is where you shine as through colored glass. Let me depend upon you.

(Letter #1,829)