Sunday, November 20, 2022

There is no turning aside the water, as it flows from high to low lands. The wind will not be beat back by the mightiest oak. I may shade my eyes, but bright sun shines down nonetheless.

There is no stopping your grace, Lord. I may run from your plans for me out of fear, or hide in my rooms out of indolence. Yet still, your ways meet my ways and upend them with abrupt providence.

If I am to follow your will whether I try or not, Lord, let me pursue it. Let me choose the world I already am in. Let me unclench my jaw, sigh, and receive your grace.

(Letter #2,721)