There will come a day when, walking through storms along windswept crags, I have an inward calm. Your peace I will have, grown like an oak inside me.
Until then, I seek you in these quiet times of dawn, I rely on silence and space to allow me room to find you. Solitude my crutch.
The winds blow now. Is it time for me to learn to stand in peace even on the battle plain?
Touch my core, Lord.
(Letter #2,790)
Daily Letters to God 