Tuesday, February 4, 2020

An obstinate mule, I will not walk in the direction you urge. I wait at the top of the path, browsing in grass, sure I know the way I would wish to move.

Grant me willingness to walk your way. Grant me willingness to endure harsh weather and bitter foes, to experience lack and worry.

Dismantle my stubbornness, dear Lord. It leaves me where the grass is more and more sparse.

(Letter #1.851)