Sunday, October 17, 2021

Drip by drip, you have worn away the edges of my fears. My worries are like smooth river rocks, tumbled in a heap at the end of a rapids.

Beyond, the water is deep and calm. On the river’s edge I skip stones. They hop, hop, sink. Oblong, smooth fears hidden in mud under calm water, dispatched in joyful play.

Lord, let these nagging morning worries be playthings, let me laugh as they skip and sink.

(Letter #2,472)