I inhabit a land of shifting ground and changeable winds. Every day new trials.
You were the same before even my ancestors walked here; could it be that I am the changeable one? The land is the land. When the wind howls, and you are distant from me, is it not I who is distant from you?
Kneeling, in a hut, let me cease crying for mercy. Let me stand and walk gently. The wind is simply wind. Let me see the land rightly. You were here all along.
(Letter #2,840)
Daily Letters to God 
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