There is a line to draw water from the well. I will allow others to dip before me; there will be enough when I have my turn.

O quencher of thirst! We will all be taken care of.

What shall I do, knowing I cannot fail?

(Letter #2,603)

I walk a path from one village to another. I will have to cross a river.

There are ferries, fords, and bridges all along that gentle stream, yet I worry over how wet might get my feet.

All paths lead to safety. When I return home, I will proclaim the news.

Hold my hand, Lord, while I cross this sturdy bridge.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,602)

You were always with me, even when I did not see.

How could I have missed so much? Where am I still blind?

Let your revelations be gentle, Lord. I am a weak foal, unsteady and wet.

Let all be well.

All will be well.

All is well.

(Letter #2,601)

Do I sit with you, or you with me?

When we walk, who leads whom? Do I take you from place to place, a child showing their parent all their favorite hiding spots?

O sweet mercy, you allow me to feel freedom and control over my destiny. Yet you are there to catch me at every stumble.

Draw near to me, Lord, while we sit together.

(Letter #2,600)