A friend comes to cheer me. I am filled up.

I cheer another. My heart becomes eased.

Love is circulation. Lord, you teach me.

(Letter #2,363)

A crowd milling outside my door. What do they want?

In my chambers, I rest with you.

They will wait.

(Letter #2,362)

I awaken; I am on the way. This encampment is just another one of many that I will have made before my journey ends.

Let me clean my site and press on without regret. No need to mourn the passing of what was simply a resting place.

Lord, let me discern the permanent from the fleeting.

(Letter #2,361)

Abundance.

Bushes, birds, sunlight.

A deer walks by, unafraid of what I may do.

Tomorrow may bring trial, yet today has dawned with ease.

Lord, your children are grateful.

(Letter #2,360)

My tragedy is self-writ, born out of my own will. I mark my own path and find myself in wasteland.

O perverse irony! I asked you for strength to persevere along this very way. Where is there room for obedience?

Had I followed your way, I should be resting in Alpine meadows with the deer. Instead I suffer under harsh light, by brackish waters.

Lord, let me follow your way from the beginning. Guide even my first step out the door.

(Letter #2,359)

While the jury looks on, I sweep the floor and tidy my chambers.

Even facing judgment, you are here with me in the little things if I only will pursue you.

(Letter #2,358)

Same road as yesterday. Dawn, walk, dusk, rest. Day upon day. Are you near to me, equally through each?

Today brings no special order nor task. Visit me nonetheless, Lord, even bearing no instruction other than: persist.

Let persistence become peace, dear Lord.

(Letter #2,357)

The tide comes in, and goes out.

The sun rises, and sets.

Rain, then drought.

The weather is changing, Lord. In what season am I — growth, harvest, winter dormancy? Does it matter?

Let me live into you nonetheless.

(Letter #2,356)

You moved me to turn left and not right.

New paths to walk, new troubles to face, new victories to witness as your grace follows me.

Later, you will give me all I need. Let me not worry that my pockets are now empty.

(Letter #2,355)

This harbor, protected from rough seas.

This meadow, with warm sunshine.

The stronghold, away from enemies.

Let me live gratefully for today’s respite, Lord.

(Letter #2,354)