Sunday, July 31, 2022

I seek and search for you, a wanderer, lost in wilderness.

I look for you in the glory of the dawn, in the quiet beauty of charity, in the healing of broken souls.

All my seeking in vain, for: you are in me.

You are in me, Lord, let me thus stop my wandering and searching.

It is over. It never was. You are in me.

(Letter #2,699)

Saturday, July 30, 2022

The world vibrates with your beauty.

My bones groan under the weight of my very flesh.

The sky lights up, and new worlds pour through the crack.

The wind and rain blind me.

O cataclysm, Lord, and terrifying beauty! How did I miss this?

Make me equal to my task, Lord.

(Letter #2,698)

Thursday, July 28, 2022

You would heal me, yet I resist. Sunlight would disinfect, wind would sweep clean, crashing waves would clear away the trash on deck. And still yet I hide in shadows, seek shelter from the wind, go belowdecks in storm.

Lord, make me willing to face my environment, that you may do your work in upon me.

You would heal me, let me welcome healing.

(Letter #2,696)

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

I stand by a lake, offering cups of cool water to my fellows. The days are hot, our labor hard. The water is welcome.

Did I make this lake? I act as if the water is mine to give. I merely pass it from one place to another.

Lord, let me see my role in this world.

(Letter #2,695)

Sunday, July 24, 2022

All these ways, supply already at the ready prior to need.

I stumble; your hand supports my back.

My strength gives out; there is a bench.

My throat is dry and my voice breaks; I am standing already by an oasis of cool water.

I wait for rescue, yet you already have placed by me all I need. I see it only when need forces open my eyes.

Let me awaken sooner, Lord.

(Letter #2,692)

Saturday, July 23, 2022

A long and dusty road lies before me.

It spirals inward, my journey to find you runs through me.

Shut out the day, shut out the world, shut out the noise. One step is how it begins, one step into my own heart. A life of infinite variety.

Here in these rooms, Lord, you my traveling companion. Guide my way and hold my hand.

(Letter #2,691)

Friday, July 22, 2022

Change my life. Change my heart. Change my being.

I anticipate the sun to rise, and it does, but from there on my expectations are upended. The world, let it be turned upside down, that I may cling more to you.

A child, I ask, where will we go today? I receive naught but a smile and a gentle tug on my arm.

Let’s go.

(Letter #2,690)