Sunday, March 20, 2022

At the bitter end of a box canyon, you built me a trail up and out.

In a bare room with one bulb, comes a door.

I thought the river had dried up, but it had only shifted course. Cool water appeared steps away from my old wading spot.

Supply, providence, rescue – never from where I would have thought.

You are the Lord of surprise! Let me sigh with gratitude.

(Letter #2,596)