Why do I approach each moment with such fear, as if a hammer will fall?
I am your child, Lord. What parent does not take joy in delighting their little one? Yet I fret, worry, mope.
Today I shall walk these lands, looking out for delight. A lovely cloud, a moment of comfort, a smile, a treasure.
Let my heart not be dismal. Let me laugh! It is in my power.
(Letter #1,883)
