Sunday, May 23, 2021

This sack of woe and vexation that I drag through the day, of what is it filled?

Worry over unyet-happened calamity. Resentment over past, trivial conflict. Despair over the fear of unmet needs.

O Lord! O Friend! What an unnecessary burden to carry.

These things have accumulated that I may abandon them, not that I might keep and grow them.

Let me run with joy, Lord, empty-handed.

(Letter #2,325)