I row.
Whether I live in a world of acclaim or derision, you have placed me in this boat and I hold these oars.
Let me pull smoothly and strong, let my movements be not frantic, nor create churning water. A tighter grip will not improve our progress.
Who else could steer this vessel? I know these waters.
I was made for a time such as this. Let me row.
(Letter #2,441)
Daily Letters to God 