Monday, March 13, 2023

A chip on a swelling sea, a leaf in wind. Where is my will? I beat my hands against the cliff side, way blocked, and the mountain yet stands resolute.

Had I followed your call, I would be on the path up and over, and not stopped in this box canyon.

Even in my weakness, choice presents itself moment by moment. Let me choose your way, Lord.

(Letter #2,814)