Stretched to breaking, ground to a nub, depleted and empty — all this I drag with me day by day through a bleak land. Where is the rescue?
Sun shines down, gentle rains grow green shoots, cisterns fill — all this too on view.
What I see is created by my interior life, Lord. You already give me all I need, want, and more. Why then do I chase these receding banners?
You prepare a table for me, in full view of all. But more than that, the gardens are already lush.
Grant me new sight, for victory is nigh.
(Letter #2,781)
Daily Letters to God 