For too long I have seen myself as the architect of my own rescue. I have enough for the day’s march yet I fret over tomorrow’s meals. It is summer days, yet I am despondent that winter will come.
Today is filled with providence, most of which remains unseen. I never saw the robber whose heart you turned; the avalanche that never began.
Resting in your palms, let me walk buoyed through the day, this day.
(Letter #2,338)
Daily Letters to God 
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