Wednesday, September 30, 2020

The day emerges from the mist and disappears as easily. I labor in my small garden as the other side of the valley comes and goes.

Do they see me? Does it change my effort?

Lord, there is work to be done. A miracle will unfold here underfoot, growth and life. Let me not miss it. Let me not distract myself with the horizon.

(Letter #2,090)