I stand in a creek as it trickles by, my limitations apparent. The water flows around me regardless of my efforts to stop or turn it.

Your power, Lord, is sometimes gentle and slow. The day unfolds whether I help it or not.

Watch the minnows dart, who live in the water. They do not fight the stream.

Let me walk in the direction you already have pointed me.

(Letter #2,785)

Standing on a plain, I peer into every corner of the horizon. Will not someone come?

There is nothing here to hide behind or under. I am face to face with my self, Lord, with you as midwife.

Make me ready to accept what I find and change.

(Letter #2,784)

Do I prepare for the day, or the day for me? Do we make ready for one another?

When we meet, will it be to embrace, or to do battle?

Those gathered figures: are they enemies or a festival?

So much rests on what I see as I look out through my window. Grant me clear sight and thought, Lord.

(Letter #2,783)

A hidden spring in craggy mountains. A sunlit glade in the middle of dark woods. A bench along an uphill path.

Lord, the unexpected friend, the inner voice, the softened heart. Let me find you, even where I am not looking. Steal upon me, grant me peace, let me become apprehended by grace.

(Letter #2,782)