Saturday, November 12, 2022

I was clay, unformed, before you gave me shape. Would I be human or beast? Unwrit potential.

This day dawns unformed and I have yet even to feel. What shall my attitude be toward your creation, Lord?

You prepare a table for me, laden heavy with providence, in the presence of my enemy and friend alike.

How could this be other than a day of joy? Let my heart come alive.

(Letter #2,713)