Sunday, September 25, 2022

A walk in the woods. Who says that, along this lovely path, I will not find brambles, or a snare?

Is my flesh to be torn? Am I a caught hare?

Lord, walk with me. You guide my feet. You turn thorn to dewdrop, trap to cushion. Your sunshine pours down upon me, I am protected, I am loved.

I draw near to you, will you walk with me?

(Letter #2,845)