I awaken to trouble, of what does it consist? Worry, fear — are these things real?
Look with care at this dwelling: its roof and walls hold. There is food to break fast.
Look at the village: there are fellows who know me and I them. There is help available to dig the well.
My troubles are fiction, I confuse reality with mood.
Grant me vision of reality today, Lord.
(Letter #2,743)
Daily Letters to God 