Grant me a confident faith, well beyond hope. Let me fear no bad news, for you are with me.
I pin my hopes on what may happen, a flimsy reed. Faith, an oak, will always stand.
Striding through a maelstrom, let faith weigh down my feet, dear Lord.
Around us the wind rushes, carrying voice and storm. Move we not. Thy will be done, no matter the weather.
(Letter #2,573)
Daily Letters to God 