Saturday, February 15, 2020

Surely these things that trouble me are gifts.

This rain, that washes me clean. This wind, that will blow me to shore. This hunger, that will keep me alert.

Need I know what lies on the next chart? There is plenty to occupy me now. Let me therfore heave to.

Lord, I am your obedient servant. Let me also become your grateful one.

(Letter #1,862)