O what do I fear? Ignominy, penury, woe. But if what consequence is the judgement of my neighbor? And have you not always rained down providence upon me?
I am walking an old and rutted path. I know its ways through dark woods. Comes a fork, and a new one has begun. Fresh cuts, smooth ground, a meadow. Let me take it. Maybe it will lead upward.
(Letter #2,837)
Daily Letters to God 