In a burnt forest buds emerge. In wasteland, a flower.

Am I to find and share the beautiful, Lord, or am I to repair the broken?

Guide me.

(Letter #1,887)

Let my dwelling be welcoming to travelers and neighbors. Let it be warm.

They are weary; let me offer comfort. It rains; let me offer a roof.

Let me smile, even as they occupy my favored spots.

(Letter #1,886)

What shall I stop today?

What shall I leave undone?

What would you have me forgo?

Root out the weeds in my garden, dear Lord.

(Letter #1,885)

You placed these desires and thoughts in my heart. This dream that I pursue, that I await, itself a gift.

Let me, Lord, consider even the ordinary strivings of the day to be holy, gifts given by you, my most intimate friend.

As I march, Lord, let me to see the gulf between what I seek, and what I attain, to be your great gift. You make me wait for all I want.

Delay and yearning are your gifts.

(Letter #1,884)