Friday, November 19, 2021

The end of this day is certain, as is the end of all my days. The sun will set; I will retire. Only once will I fail to rise the next morning.

Today, dawn. The meadow is fresh with untrod dew. What path shall I make? The same as yesterday? A new, untried direction?

Tomorrow I shall begin again and it will be today. Then let today’s path be worthy of this day, for it is all there is. All depends on my next step.

Take my foot in your gentle hand, Lord, place it softly on new grass, pointing at grace.

Order my steps, my life, my day.

(Letter #2,505)