You have prepared this day for me; when I lay down my head at evening it will be gone. What shall I fill these hours with?
Instead of walking out into the air, I dither and worry. I plan and plot. All this, wasted moments.
I have collected my woes into a barn and contemplate them. This morning, let me burn it down and leave it behind.
Let the day be filled with walking.
(Letter #2,051)
Daily Letters to God 
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