Sunday, January 26, 2020

I am so inconstant. I despair one moment, laugh the next. Anger besets me, then fear, then joy. All day, blown like a dry leaf.

I hope for rescue, but this itself is illusory. They who hope carry with them the seeds of doubt. When I hope, it is because I worry that what I hope for may not arrive. Hope leaves me unsatisfied.

Yet faith is confident. Faith strides through the garden, secure that the path has a destination. Faith brings me equanimity in this moment, no matter its characteristics.

Lord, grant me faith. Let me be willing to abandon hope.

(Letter #1,842)