Alone in a mountain, I quietly mine these jewels.

In the jostle of the day, they slip away through my fingers like water.

Grant that I may hold onto what I daily find, even as storms lash, even as time lingers, even as enemies gather.

It is winter and I carry inside an oasis. Let it become a place of welcome.

(Letter #2,789)

Wake, tend, walk, work, eat, rest. Drive out self. Help others. Seek you.

Repeat each day.

Let the days become years, the acts become habit become way of life become living prayer.

Thank you, Lord.

(Letter #2,788)

Walking up a mountain track. You hold my right hand as along we go. Far ahead, storm clouds crackle.

By the time we reach them, the sun will shine and warm air will be drying the ground.

Let me discern present from distant, Lord.

(Letter #2,787)

You leave peace in the world. Do I accept it?

You offer joy to your children. Do I pick it up?

I wish for your treasures to be visited upon my fellows, that they may find the comfort only you can bring, yet I leave myself out. I rest to the side, making the way for others.

Let me claim the same power I see flowing through other to other, Lord, our collective birthright. The steward surely lives, too, in the house they maintain.

(Letter #2,786)