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)

Could it be that I have already been delivered?

These trials are momentary puzzles to be solved, games to be played at. But the battle has been won.

Could this, indeed, be?

The land rejoices, Lord. I shall sing along with them.

(Letter #2,585)

You drew near to me even as I denied you. You spoke through others’ voice.

You saved me even as I thought myself my own architect.

Now we sit together, close companions.

Let now my voice be used as a beacon for others, Lord.

(Letter #2,584)

Each moment, I turn into a scene where I am central.

Let me be a supporting player today, Lord.

(Letter #2,583)

Do I dangle on a thread over coals? Do I walk a tightrope above rapids?

I enjoy a thumping heart, so seek I to feel imperiled.

A child, I climb trees on a sunny day, I row along a calm river.

Let me see the truth, Lord, of how shallow is the canal. I could walk where I now strain at the oar.

You smile on me, Lord, let me see it.

(Letter #2,582)

It is you who see me most clearly, Lord. In a room of sleeping ones, you watch over us. You know our ways, each one’s sound as they breathe.

Now, under the sun, I walk with purpose. Do you not know me equally now, and love me the same as when you guarded my sleeping self?

O gratitude!

The wilderness, Lord, you keep it at bay even as I think myself the sentinel.

Let me hear your direction today.

(Letter #2,581)

I stare at a chasm, fearful that I will be swallowed into it.

I do not see that this is simply one view from along a pleasant mountain path.

Let false vision not entangle me, Lord. You have placed my feet upon a smooth road; I stumble through my own distraction.

All will be well?

All will be well.

(Letter #2,580)

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)