Walking a narrow track over uneven ground, sun shines from behind me, warming my back and neck.
You are the sun, O Lord.
The shadow that darkens the way and hides the roots over which I stumble – the shadow is made by me. I darken my own way. Why do I walk in this direction?
Shine higher in the sky, Lord, or let me turn myself to walk toward you.
Let my ways be your ways.
(Letter #2,569)