Who hides the future? It is you.

Who buries the past under dim memory? It is you.

Who limits my view of even this moment to my own flawed perspective? It is always and ever you, Lord.

I have no choice but to follow your will, even would I try to go my own way. The day ends and it was always as you would have had it.

Grant me equanimity, Lord. There is no such thing as calamity and my worries are but mist. Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,480)

Shackled to the world, I rise with difficulty to begin the morn. The sun peers at me while I make ready. Such weight I carry through the day.

I hold onto these chains myself. I have taken on my own imprisonment.

Lord! Let me drop my burdens and walk free! Is this what you have been waiting for me to do?

I will have forgotten this difficult rising. Let me release my troubles.

The sun will beam, the birds sing, all while I walk free through meadows and along cool streams.

(Letter #2,479)

Is the day a precious stone to be polished and placed on display? A pile of jewels has little use.

Is the day a home, a dwelling place, to be constructed and joined with craft?

This dry roof keeps away the rains, the walls hold in the heat against the winter.

Lord, let me make good use of this day.

(Letter #2,478)

I was on a narrow, craggy track, winding along cliffsides.

You widened my path and made the ground firm. I now stroll through meadows. The way is roomy.

Am I to take pride in these changed circumstances? This ease is a gift, grace – it came undeserved and it can be lost.

Thank you, Lord, for your peace. Let me share with others your ways.

(Letter #2,747)

In a secret place, you made me.

The path of my days was set before my first dawn.

Power hums through the world, I walk roads with you by my side.

This joy of life, open to all, let all feel it.

Let us walk in power, these brothers and sisters, your children, dear Lord.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made. We are yours.

(Letter #2,746)

Here in the quiet, with you, there are no demands and no recriminations.

Here in the quiet, is love.

Let my soul rest, let ease creep in. Restore me, here in the quiet.

(Letter #2,745)

Life is flowing back.

The part of me that was numb now revives. A limb, tingling, awakening.

Lord, I believe. I believe again.

Thy will be done today.

(Letter #2,744)

So week, ill-prepared, ill-suited to the tasks I face.

Lord, will you enter my heart, strengthen my will, grant me courage?

Above all, give me faith, Lord. You have rescued me so many times before, how could you not do so again?

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,743)

Peering out from my rooms, I fear the day. Will I get what I want? Will trouble rain down? Will calamity strike?

But you have already ordered of the world, laid the paths, numbered my steps.

I need but walk out to meet the day.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,742)

These flaws in me, which I seek to improve – my pride, my self-pity, my judgment, my doubt – will you take them away?

I play architect, yet you are the potter and I the clay. Re-form me, Lord.

Grant me equanimity.

Let me live content in all circumstances. Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,741)