Tuesday, February 1, 2022

One day, crushed by woe, I fell to my knees and called out to you. Now I sit with you in the morning, each dawn holding hands and feeling your warmth.

So far away then, so near now.

Clouds of worry and trial hover at the edges of the field. One day I again may be crushed. When I cry out to you, let me recall this quiet morning.

You were with me all along, even before.

(Letter #2,579)