The shadow in which I sit is cold. To warm my body I need only roll over into the sun and stretch, belly to the sky. Why do I not? Instead I shiver.
Lord, do I wait for someone to remove the tree, to lift and move me?
Rescue is as easy as standing and walking, let me walk. As I move, I will warm, even without the sun. Let me then move.
(Letter #2,851)
Daily Letters to God 