The rains came and the winds whipped, yet I remained untouched.

The seas rose, my dwelling stayed dry.

The drought crept and persisted, my fields did not wither.

Undeserved favor, Lord. Why do you spare me so?

Let me try to make myself worthy.

(Letter #2,902)

You are my leader and my goal. My protector and my safety. The one I love, and love itself.

O mystery! That you are both way and objective.

Let me follow you wholly, Lord, and turn over my will. Let me spread the peace I discover.

(Letter #2,901)

The garden struggles to grow. What can I do to help?

My efforts are of limited use: the growing is not mine to do. Mine to tend the soil, and try to improve conditions.

Grant me willingness to do your will, Lord.

(Letter #2,900)

The day is perfect. Sun rises, clouds flow, shadows move, creatures feed, gardens grow, sun sets.

What could I add, Lord? Let me not add worry, strife, chaos.

Peace is your law, and harmony, and growth.

Let me me live today as this day intends: in harmony.

(Letter #2,899)

You intercede time and again.

Rains breaking a drought, a changed mind upending judgment, the dawn itself bringing new light into darkness.

A constant reprieve, my companion through terrifying days.

Let today be like yesterday, Lord. Another rescue.

(Letter #2,898)

A small voice, whispering tender love.

Green shoots grow into an oak grove.

Power, strength, fearfully and wonderfully grown.

Whisper to me strength, Lord.

(Letter #2,897)

A narrowing road, winding along the cliff face. Yesterday’s ease, a broad and flat path, is barely a memory. Today contains turnings, seeming danger even.

Am I not held aloft by your hand? The drop is fearfully long but I am protected.

You bid me walk with greater and greater care, Lord. Did I choose this? Did you?

Let me be equal to today’s task, Lord.

(Letter #2,896)

My heart swells as I approach the river. The smell of water quickens my steps.

Are the banks that different from the meadows I walked through anon? Simply being near the current, is it enough?

Wherefrom this anticipation?

I am witness to power, even where there is no drama.

Lord, let me give thanks for even the slow moving creek.

(Letter #2,895)

I glimpse a corner of you at dawn, and the selfish pieces of me shrivel and wilt.

Remake me, Lord. The loss of what I was before may bring pain, but the sun warms my limbs. I am eager.

Let me walk your way.

(Letter #2,894)

A spark in me, a spark in my neighbor, a spark in my opponent.

You reside in all. How can I bear such good news? It burns away the worry over inconsequential trouble.

Let me tend the sparks in me, in others. Let the warming flames mingle.

(Letter #2893)