Will you rescue me, or stand by while I struggle? You have said you will never forsake me.

Will you let me stray from your ways? You have said you would order my steps.

Today, tomorrow, Lord: all things are ordained. Let me not worry so over my choices and trials. Even the dead end and box canyon were designed for me alone.

(Letter #2,070)

As I tend this garden plot, my neighbors criticize. Lord, what is the lesson?

Dedication to you?

Openness to the new?

The ability to resist distraction?

Lord, let me learn what you would teach me.

(Letter #2,069)

I hoard: my energy, my ease, my treasure.

I doubt: what if, when needed, supply is lacking, aid does not come?

Lord, you have never forsaken me, why should I fear it now?

Strengthen my faith. Let me hoard less, doubt less.

(Letter #2,068)

This small room is my refuge. Here I am protected. Even under fear and worry – this place is safe. None touch me here.

Lord, let me turn these worries to joy, here in a place of refuge.

There is no need for apprehension while I sit on my cushion. Let me leave it outside the door.

(Letter #2,067)

I was sinking, and you pulled me up.

I was alone, and you befriended me.

I was blind, and you showed me I could open my eyes.

In my life of providence, these trials have faded into mist. Let me not forget your grace. Let me proclaim it.

Others may need hope of its coming.

(Letter #2,066)

Let me not simply be kind, but practice kindness.

Let me be more than humble, but practice humility.

Grant me knowledge of how to behave, Lord, that my doings may embody Love. Let me not rest on intention and warm feeling, but act.

Thy will be done in me.

(Letter #2,065)

Must I wait for deliverance? Must I merit it?

Relief was always here, Lord. I have carried to these burdens for so long I forgot that it was I alone who picked them up.

Lord, thank you for all the miracles of Providence that are there for the asking. Let me ask. Let me accept.

(Letter #2,064)

Reluctant to leave my chamber, strengthen my resolve.

Frightened to greet the day, deliver me courage.

Worried that day’s end will bring nothing to show, grant me industry.

Take away the self-pity that nails me to this spot, Lord.

(Letter #2,063)

I feel my breathing, my jaw unclenching. For too long I have crouched at the ready.

Let the spring unwind today, Lord.

(Letter #2,062)

In the sunlit meadow, surrounded by flowers, I fear the mob in the forest.

Inside, surrounded by heaps of treasure, I sit panicked at the thought of conflict.

With family, surrounded by friends and goodwill, I worry from where will my next meal come.

I seek out reasons to fear, beyond all proportion.

Lord, open my eyes to the sufficiency and love you have already bestowed. I am your child. You are my friend. Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,061)