At their edge, the woods become wilderness. I stand with one foot in each, face out, watching for souls to beckon.

Of what good are my words and actions, if not fueled by love? Wolves roam, waiting.

Let me not be dragged away, Lord, while I straddle the line. Such warmth and safety mere steps away. Let me return with new companions.

The light takes its comfort in rescued travelers.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,723)

A candle, hidden in my heart. Let me stand upright, that others who need may see its glow.

I will need to turn to face outwards, and expose my chest to the elements.

I will need to stand still in the wind.

Let me not cover over the glow, abandoning my post. Let the candle become a blaze, seen far.

Let me shine out over the harbor.

(Letter #2,722)

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)

Deep darkness. A candle lit on a mantle.

Can the darkness beat back the light? Does the candle struggle to overcome pitch black?

Light shines and shines, regardless of the gloom. From far off across a meadow, a candle in the window is seen by a weary night traveler.

My heart contains a candle, let it be seen by the ones who need.

(Letter #2,720)