When, Lord, do I labor for you, and when for myself? Are my energies misspent, and how might I know?

I am the bewildered one. How, then, ought I act?

Lord, grant me clear orders. Compel me. I live in ignorance of your plans. My own designs always place me at the center, a drunken spider in his web.

Let me follow you, let me not second-guess the path, let my hands work of their own accord, moved by you.

Let my selfish thoughts watch on, impotent and spinning. Thy will be done.

(Letter #1,933)

That which I fear, I will soon enough welcome.

That which vexes me, will soon enough make me smile.

That which I wish to conquer, will soon enough overcome me.

I am shackled to this misshapen self.

Lord, let me become open to all these transformations. Let them wash over me, now, today, this moment.

Why wait to abandon fear and resentment? Swallow me in love, let me become it.

(Letter #1,932)

By looking at the path, I cannot tell where it leads. The well-worn way, does it take its walker to an oasis? Does it end tragically at a cliff, deceiving so many who have come before?

The right way may look overgrown and little-used.

My own senses are not enough, Lord. Set my feet in the right direction.

Let me heed your call to walk down even the paths that frighten me.

(Letter #1,931)

Let my deeds speak louder than my words. I am so quick to talk, so quick to listen.

These words, this currency in which I trade, all tinkling brass.

Today, let me act.

(Letter #1,930)