These scores who gather in the square, just outside my door, for whom do they wait?

What fears and terrors, Lord, are in these several hearts? I know the way to a nearby meadow, but few will budge.

Here we will rest, on a safe and sunlit lawn. Let me pass cheer through the crowd, that the terrified may unclench their jaws.

The meadow will wait until tomorrow. Let me heal with love today.

(Letter #2,264)

Fear grips my throat in the dawn, yet I deny myself your comfort out of worry that tomorrow may be worse. How dare I squander your gifts, which I may need later, on this fleeting trouble?

Each day is sufficient unto itself. Let me use all you supply today; it is not meant to be hoarded.

Therefore let me say: Lord, help me.

(Letter #2,263)

The answers come. I know what I must do. Yet I resist and delay.

Lord, I ask and ask for my will to align with yours. Here now is my opportunity, and away I shy.

Let me abandon the shriveled skin of self and walk toward you, all pink and new growth.

Thy will, indeed let it be done.

(Letter #2,262)

If today I lift a great weight, or build a majestic wall, or heal some ill neighbor, let these things be only in alignment with your will. The weight, the wall, the healing are the same. How can I know which task you set for me has the most import?

Is it today that my destiny to is to arrive and bear fruit? Will I know it when it comes? Or will it be another moment like any, with some quotidian task in tow?

Let me approach all duties as if they were a mission for sacred healing, Lord. Any one of them might yet be.

(Letter #2,261)