Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Each heartache an opportunity. Each failure a gift. Lord, let me see it so.

In penury I wish for sufficient resources. In trial, for acquittal. Lord, such limited aims.

Let my faith grow mountainous, my sweet friend. Here you sit with me, how can I not know of your power, your love, your way of life?

May I do thy will always.

(Letter #2,124)