I am leaning in to hear. The wind obscures your words. Can I believe my ears?

O! I am the bewildered one. Make the way plain for me, Lord.

(Letter #2,294)

Morning camp, all quiet. The fire has burned out. Forest creatures sneak at the edges. I move and all is tense, braced for calamity.

Who else holds their breath as I walk by? Will I ever know?

Let me spread ease, Lord. Let them breathe. Let my wake be peace.

(Letter #2,293)

Is every river the same? They end in the sea, or the lake – yet each has its own source.

I walk this land. At sunset I will need rest. Let my encampment be fed by a river from pure source.

Guide my feet, Lord, as I choose my stopping place.

(Letter #2,292)

Sunshine, your light, brings ease even to the exhausted.

I am not spent; simply weary. How shall I help my fellows?

Let my limbs come to life in the warmth.

(Letter #2,291)