My troubles, Lord, are light and momentary. They themselves bring me closer to you – I approach you not in spite of them but because.

Let me not cease walking towards you; let me love these obstacles.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #1,994)

Another dawn, unmerited. The singing of the birds is grace itself – gifts I have done nothing to deserve.

How possibly can I see gray and dull mist? I am in a painting, even the fog is a masterwork.

Let me have gratitude, Lord. Nothing I have is earned.

(Letter #1,993)

Free me this morning from my selfish and twisted thinking.

I look out upon the world and I see only my place in it. Let me walk through the day as one among many, no different than any other pebble on the beach.

Let me quietly do your will, unseen and unnoticed.

(Letter #1,992)

Let me love actively.

Let me extend myself out from this seclusion, Lord. Let me enter into discomfort.

If I am to be your instrument, let me not remain unused with a dull edge.

(Letter #1,991)