The flood waters rise, yet do I trust that this boat will float on.

The sun beats down, yet do I trust rains will come, the soil will loosen, the wheat will sprout.

Rescued from passing conditions, I will yet thrive. Thank you, Lord, for the bounty on its way to me.

Today, I will row and tend my small vessel.

(Letter #2,574)

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)

If you hold my hand, I will not fall. If you guide my feet, I will not stumble nor lose my way.

My storehouse is empty, I fear lack and the need of charity, yet still you call me forth to walk these trails. All I need, I will find along the way.

Will it be enough? How could it not be?

Lord, forgive me my disbelief.

(Letter #2,572)

Today, piled upon a heap of yesterdays. Did I learn their lessons? Will I live today with wisdom?

In truth, I am a slow and poor learner. Taught and taught again, must I be. Each day I face dawn with worry, each day I persevere until dusk and yet survive, thrive, even.

You answered the calls of your children only after a night of fruitless fishing. Trying again, after failure, their nets overflowed.

Dawn, I shall try again. Let me meet overflow, Lord.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,571)