Peace is what you offer. Not the calm of placid surroundings, nor the lack of conflict — but the quiet of mind. This is a mountain to climb.

Am I ready for it?

Grant me willingness to be at peace, Lord.

(Letter #2,892)

Lord, you lead me out into a large place, a flat field under bright light. I have anticipated this day with fear.

The crowds I thought would jeer me, where are they? My fellows look on with encouragement. They beckon.

It was never to be a trial, but a homecoming and celebration. I am the prodigal, forgiven and fed.

Lord, let this morning worry burn away like mist.

So long I wandered. I am home.

(Letter #2,891)

I face today’s battle, a warrior at dawn. What do I carry?

Yesterday has burnt to ashes, tomorrow not yet formed. Let them remain as they are.

All I need, then, today, is sword and shield.

(Letter #2,890)

In the quiet, it is so easy to seek you. Nothing presses and the day is yet cool.

When woe befalls, do I seek you then? At noon when judgment is hot?

Grant me cool and clear presence, Lord, that I may turn to you even in the midst of forgetting myself.

(Letter #2,889)

I go from spot to spot. Am I seeking you, or are you driving me toward society?

The seed pushes down roots as it also pushes up a flower into the air. When I see the flower, do I also love what is unseen?

Days alone, in solitude. Invisible work, seen only by you, Lord. Let my life flower due to strong roots.

(Letter #2,888)

Am I the hammer or the nail?

Do I hold fast, or cause change?

One of many instruments at the ready, let me find my highest use, Lord.

(Letter #2,887)

The trails crisscross and there is no clear direction. One leads to another and folds back again.

One foot in front of the other, Lord. Breathe in, breathe out. These are your directions in a land of no direction.

Lo, in the midst of the barest life, comes another traveler. More hungry than me, I can offer food. Injured, I can sit with them.

No wonder, Lord, that you slowed me down, for I might have stepped over this one lying by the road.

Let me give thanks even for my halting pace.

(Letter #2,886)

Sit next to me as I look out upon the valley, Lord, and show me which roads to walk. How do I get from here to there? When I arrive, where shall I set myself down and how deliver the news?

And what news? That all will be well, there is enough, that you have called us to live in peace. Abundance is the message.

All of that is to come. For now, Lord, sit with me.

(Letter #2,886)

You reside in the flower, the tree, the hill, the river. Power flowing through the land, there to see as I walk from place to place.

Am I sensible of all that is around me? Its importance too often escapes me. Only moments at a time do I see the power, hear the music — when I am doing your bidding, awake yet occupied.

Let me live precisely, Lord, with care and devotion to doing your will. Each day a new chance.

(Letter #2,885)

You visit me at dawn and soothe me. Will you come at noon, in the heat of the day, when there is battle to wage? At night, when chaos reigns?

Are you distant, or is my seeking inconstant? Let me call to you even when I forget myself.

Grant me a mind for peace, Lord, even when the world is at war.

(Letter 2,884)