They wonder what I am doing, retreating behind this brush, kneeling. I am tending the ember you gave me.
Gloom grows before dawn, wind whips.
No fire will catch, yet the coal will warm me. Maybe a neighbor will see, and come, and warm themselves, too.
Let my kneeling figure be a quiet invitation to enjoy relief from the chill.
(Letter #2,577)
Daily Letters to God 