If yesterday I was your instrument, am I not today as well?

Fear gnaws at my toes as I awaken to face the world. I delay, I hide in my chamber.

Pick me up, Lord, and use me, for I cower before the threshold.

Let me will your will.

(Letter #2,516)

Am I a bundle of desires and entreaties? I petition and petition, waiting for relief, as I choose between these forking paths.

Have I once asked, what should be?

Lord, strip away my wants. Leave behind willingness, that I may refind my path.

(Letter #2,515)

This wall. It impedes my progress and yet protects me from the wind.

These duties. They fill my day with obligation and yet give me useful purpose.

This worry. It paralyzes me and yet makes me depend upon ever greater faith.

O Lord, am I imprisoned, or a prince?

Let me see rightly.

(Letter #2,514)

The miracle at the center of this day: that love passes from one to another.

Candle to candle to lamp. We are wax and oil and wood, no special material.

You lit me, let me light my neighbor.

(Letter #2,513)