Tuesday, December 29, 2020

What is joy, why do I feel it, how shall I spread it?

Daily diligence has brought my footsteps to this place. I stand on hallowed ground, let me remove my sandals.

Yet still I walk, barefoot through the thorns. Trouble visits the lives of the holy; why not me?

My heart swells, Lord, yet it is a murmur. I lean in to hear.

Joy is quiet effort.

(Letter #2,180)