Am I to draw on your strength and supply today, to meet a great need? Or is today one of quiet labor and devotion, laying by stores for later calamity?

I await a dramatic flourish, like a child before a spectacle. Lord, let me instead walk faithfully along today’s path.

Grant me diligence in confronting my defects. Deliver me from judgment and pride in all I do today.

(Letter #1,978)

Birds call as the sun rises. They stop. Where have they gone, Lord? Does another need to hear their call?

The day is unfolding like a growing thing. How will it grow, Lord? What care will it require?

Storms approach, the air is heavy with it. When will the rains come, Lord? How shall I prepare?

Let me see you in the daily things, Lord. You are here with me.

(Letter #1,977)

I approach you, aches and pains and hungry mouth. You strengthen me and feed me. Yet what good is this if my soul remains withered?

Let me bring my soul to you, let us join in training it to flourish. Let it become unselfish.

Let my soul become love and burst from my chest.

Thy will be done, Lord, let me do it.

(Letter #1,976)

If I encounter a river on my walk, will I find a crossing? If I do not, must I swim, or am I to stay on one bank?

Let my will be in alignment with yours, Lord. Let me get into agreement with you.

These abilities I have; let me point them in your direction.

(Letter #1,975)

Awake before the sun, I am already driven on by pride, selfishness, and self-pity. I judge all around me, wrathful.

Lord, you undermined this rickety barn I have built, filled with such dark, poisonous air. Knock down the beams, you supply all I truly need.

You point the way to humility, generosity, acceptance, tolerance.

Standing out in the field, unsheltered, let me take the cloak you offer. You have sewn it just for me.

(Letter #1,974)

I slept outside, yet you kept the rains off me. The locusts skipped my field. The land has given all I need for today and tomorrow.

What am I to do with this safety and supply, Lord? Who needs what I have?

The neighbor’s fields are dead. Floods have washed away the village.

What is to be done is obvious. Lord, grant me willingness to give away with you have given me.

(Letter #1,973)

If you send me trial, let me see it as a gift.

When I am robbed, let me see the treasure left behind.

When assailed by foes, let me see the peace on offer.

O Lord, let me see rightly today.

(Letter #1,972)

I walk into this garden, where there was already peace. Seeking calm, I bring chaos as I sit restlessly, as I pace, as I pray in anguish.

Lord, if I am to seek peace, let me recognize it where it exists. Let me be love. Let me not chase away your gifts.

(Letter #1,971)

Let me see the world clearly, without applying stories to what unfolds.

The rains come, and they go. Neighbors circulate. Forest creatures hunt for food. The garden grows, weeds too.

If I set out walking today, will I see woe? Growth? Moments of peace?

Lord, awaken me to what is clearly present.

(Letter #1,970)

My thoughts and attitudes are dogged by judgment and self-pity.

I am the righteous, assailed by foes. These brothers and sisters around me become a mob in my sight.

Let me love, Lord, even when assailed. Let me judge not, lest I be judged.

(Letter #1,969)