I put my few possessions into a sack, and set out for the next village. Leaving one dull life, thoughts of tomorrow, and all I will find that is new, overtake me. I can scarcely contain myself. I am trading new dreams for old.

New village, new fellows, new home, new chores, new worries. Here I am, planted in tomorrow, and it feels like today.

O bitter woe! I have miscalculated, and brought myself along on my journey.

Lord, you shine down on yesterday’s home just as much as today’s and tomorrow’s. I was thriving, I am thriving now. Let me flourish here, even growing through the frost.

(Letter #2,170)

I tend a secret place, that began as a forgotten corner. Weed-choked, solitude its only asset.

Morning by morning, in gloomy dawn I have husbanded this spot, making it a place of welcome.

Lord, I draw near to you. You visit me here. Let us now make ready for others.

I shall leave small signs of invitation all around, for those who have eyes to see. Ones and twos may come.

Let me, Lord, await them with a knowing smile. You will visit us.

(Letter #2,169)

Today, as on all days, you offer choice. Shall I try to draw near to you, or walk alone?

You love me enough to grant me this freedom.

I travel from one village to another, hoping for fresh horizons, but bring my old self into each new place.

These forking paths are tempting, Lord, but let me choose the ones that lead to you.

(Letter #2,168)

Night frost has killed the garden.

A pipe has burst.

Yet still comes dawn. My charges must be fed.

Lord, you sustain me even in the face of calamity. Wherefore, then, do I seek license to shirk my own duty?

Make my chores into devotion, Lord.

(Letter #2,167)