My thoughts, cascading one upon the other, an unruly mob. Reorder my inner life, let me form useful ranks, a uniformed army of steady thinking.
One idea, love, spread across a battalion to be wielded upon the day.
I feared your burden, but I learned I was to carry treasure throughout the village. Who does not welcome the deliverer of gifts?
All is well with me, Lord.
Thy will be done.
(Letter #2,576)
Daily Letters to God 
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