What is the source of the wind, and where is its end? It is here now, a condition to be accepted.
A sapling grows into a bent oak, after years of this wind. Walkers will stop to marvel, some, even, to paint it. In the lee creatures will shelter.
If I seek calm, can I find it by the bent oak? Will the wind whip away your voice, Lord? What is the purpose of serenity?
In shelter and stillness, let me yet seek your will as intently as I listen for your voice in the storm. Thy will be done.
(Letter #2,905)
Daily Letters to God 