Tuesday, April 7, 2020

I look out at the field with such fear. An army facing me with spears. Let me approach them as your children, Lord. You love them as you do me.

Sunshine warms the grass. How can I fear your creation so?

I am afraid I will be judged. I am afraid that when called to report, words will escape me. I am afraid that something I have left undone will now be discovered. The worries of self.

Lord, let the sun warm me, let me smile at these enemy forces.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #1,914)