Where are you, Lord?

If I seek you on the mountain, you meet me on the pathway in the foothills. If I seek you in the forest, you are there at the trailhead. If I seek you in a teacher, you are in my school books.

You meet me always before my destination, before I have begun to look.

Open me to meeting you, Lord, earlier and earlier, in less and less expected places.

(Letter #1,964)

Days of work and discipline have left me empty. I have feared to ask for ought but strength to do your will.

If I am your child, shall I not also seek rest, comfort, love?

Lord, love me today.

(Letter #1,963)

You test me. Why?

I grow and grow, my limbs ache and I am awkward. I learned to crawl, then to walk. To speak, then to sing. I have barely learned to grasp a stick, and you call me to tie ribbons in the hair of children.

Lord, I am afraid of these new tasks you set, afraid I will be unable. Afraid my insufficiency will be seen and judged.

The test is not the test. You call me to trust you even in lack.

Let me live as your child.

(Letter #1,962)

What you give to me, I squander on myself. The energy, the time, the supply – all spent on sustaining my own aims.

Let me give it all away. Let me give unto exhaustion, unto day’s end, unto emptiness.

Lord, you will fill this vessel only when empty. Let me pour nourishment on this land.

(Letter #1,961)