Standing on rock, the ground presses up equally as I fall.
You meet me, Lord, where my need is greatest. You meet me, Lord, with support in precise measure.
How could it be otherwise, lest I float away or be crushed?
I am certain the sun will rise and give life, and that as I walk the ground will not shift. Grant me faith in your providence, Lord. Make me certain of your supply.
(Letter #2,586)