Dawn. Dew. Mist.

How will I spend the hours in this day you have given to me, O Lord? Will I sit and await the tomorrow that will never come?

You have given me, your child, treasure. Let me not hoard it, but instead spend and share.

(Letter #2,637)

Doing your will, I never exhaust your supply.

Speaking your words, I am never speechless.

Going your way, I am never lost.

You will not forsake me, Lord, and I shall live close to you.

Let me do your will today.

(Letter #2,636)

These fields have no walkways; only the tracks deer have made. Are these game trails fit to walk? And ever yet I am led by the hand down them.

Let me do your will, Lord. Be with the creatures; dine with the weary; ease the afflicted.

Let even my walk into the village be an adventure, Lord.

(Letter #2,635)

One drop, in a trickling stream through a grassy field.

I will join a creek, then a river, the sea. I may support a mighty barge, crash against a pier and storms.

The sun may take me up, and I may rain down on a field and find my way to a stream.

Lord, let me be your river.

(Letter #2,634)

There will be enough:

Time.

Energy.

Supply.

Grace.

Watch, there will be miracles of Providence!

Thank you, Lord.

(Letter #2,633)

Stay with me. Stay me. Settle my frantic action, place my steps in order and slow my breath.

Let me walk in a line, your line, your path, your Way.

Let never me arrive. Always on your Way.

(Letter #2,632)

A well-worn path. Wither goes it?

Is it worn because it is easily trod? Or because, though stony, it leads to heights and vistas?

Are you at its end? Are you the way itself?

O Lord, let me walk rightly today.

(Letter #2,631)

Let them know me by my deeds. Let my actions echo, let the hearts of my brothers and sisters beat back to me.

Let me live gently.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,630)

I am blinking in the sunshine. How did I get here? I scarce remember the steps that made up my journey.

Did you send me into this land to heal or be healed? To experience joy or to give it? To learn or to teach?

Need I know, Lord? Obedience brought me here.

Let me do your will today.

(Letter #2,629)

Wolves around the campfire.

Let them roam, howl, and slink away to other camps. Ignore them.

Let us sit, quietly, in meditation.

Sitting still with you is the practice.

(Letter #2,628)