My cries and petitions are so meager. Pennies and crumbs I seek, worried how I might survive the day.

Seeing in secret, Lord, you make ready to reward with abundant overflow.

How could I possibly prepare?

Let me be ready, Lord, to give thanks and to shine your light onto my fellows.

(Letter #2,599)

What are my needs? Are they my own?

You fill the reservoirs from which your children drink, Lord.

Let me see where I lack wherewithal to help my fellows, and pour my prayers into that hole.

I will hold the dipper, and quench the thirst of my neighbor.

(Letter #2,598)

The day contains all I need.

The journey is exactly the right length.

All is well in this garden, Lord. All will be well.

(Letter #2,597)

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)