Today may be a day of simple tasks and meeting small obligations.

O! What will grow from these small acts?

Already, you reward my devotion with sunshine and clear skies. When the buds of spring come, there will be a riot of wealth.

And it all will have begun with small acts.

(Letter #2,162)

Yesterday, and the day before, fear gripped me.

Today I sit before you, untroubled.

Driven by fear, I moved mountains. Now I am still, and bear few burdens.

Let me breathe quietly here, and feel my cushion beneath me.

Tomorrow you may move me to more feats, goaded by fear or exuberance.

All is your will, Lord, both peace and conflict.

(Letter #2,161)

How wide must the pathway be, if indeed I walk with you? On a narrow ridge, with drops to each side, why fear I? I am walking the track you have laid out.

The gale blows outside, but in here there is calm.

There is drought in the land, but I drink from a well.

Lord, I face the day with fear. Let me dwell on seeking and doing your will, and not the cliffs along which you have brought me.

(Letter #2,160)

Others come to bother and test me. I pray in my closet for strength to meet them.

They leave behind seeds, sown in battle. I do not even see them, distracted by the aftermath.

Later the meadow blooms in a riot of wildflowers.

Instead of begging for strength, Lord, grant me the awareness to give thanks even now for what will be sown today.

(Letter #2,159)

I set out on this path, one I have walked before and I know the destination. I am weary thinking of the trials the journey will bring, difficulties I well know.

Such pride, Lord, that I presume to know that yesterday’s experience will also be today’s.

What will you deliver today, Lord? Where will you take me?

Let me set aside what I think I know about my upcoming journey. Let me take every step with wonder.

(Letter #2,158)

Am I awake to you?

My thoughts are filled with duty and obligation.

I cleave to you. I walk the pathways set by you.

Where is my song to you, Lord? Awaken it within me, let me run along today’s path, laughing at what you told me.

(Letter #2,157)

Surely you are here with me. The question is not whether you will rescue me but how and when.

A child knows to trust, and lives in anticipation of wondrous gifts. How come I to a place so desolate that I doubt even whether I will find food?

Surely you are in this place, as you always are. Let me live in wonder today.

(Letter #2,156)

Tomorrow I will be called upon to run, to cheer the crowd.

Today you ask me to stand tall, still, strong, that others may tie their boats to me.

Lord, how can I be all these things? See you not how meager are my strengths? Yet still each day brings new feats to perform.

Lord, grant me power. Your child is in hopeful need.

(Letter #2,155)

Struggling and suffering have brought me to you. Why do I now seek to do more penance?

My long march has brought me through dark valleys and sunken marshland to this high view. The valley spreads before me. I look upon it at your right hand, Lord.

Let me dwell not on the stony path I walked to get here. I am with you now, and the winds have cleared the skies. Let me stay here long enough feel the sun warm my face.

(Letter #2,154)

I am trying to draw near to you. Which path leads thither? Would you have me surmount obstacles, or is it the broad and welcoming way I see before me? How would I make the way for my own child to reach me? Would it not be filled with ease?

Lord, I imagine a world of challenges and tests between us. It is my own pride’s doing; I want to receive your love as an achievement. Yet you love me even in failure.

Let me take the broad way, Lord, the way to you.

(Letter #2,153)