Does the day belong to me, that I may win it? Or do I belong to the day, which will do what it will?

I sit by a mighty lakeside, pouring out dippers of water to weary travelers. They could drink on their own, neither is the water mine to give. Yet there I stand, pleased with my beneficence.

Grant that I may see my own reality, Lord. I pass along what is not mine, to others who could find their own supply. The true resource is that I am awake.

Let me awaken yet more.

(Letter #2,949)

Will you save me, Lord? I peer into the darkness to see if you are coming.

I think, on the other side of heartache lies peace, and I steel myself. Yet it is here before me even in the midst of calamity. Rain falls on parched grasses and awakens then. They were not dead but dormant.

You already rescued me, why do I look to the future? Today contains all it needs. Let me follow you through this day.

(Letter #2,948)

Between plenty and penury, a knife’s edge. Walking the ridgeline, a peak between valleys.

Will you maintain my poise, Lord? Grant me balance that I may encourage my fellows on their own narrow pathways. Guide my feet that I may not fall into the deep.

You are Providence, Lord, let me have stronger and yet stronger faith.

(Letter #2,947)

How often, in all the moments of the day, can I thank you? How often know you are with me, under me, behind me? How often give myself over to you?

You are already with me, Lord. Why call out to you when you are here? My cries serve to remind myself of my dependence.

Let me stay close to you, Lord, for I am prone to wander.

(Letter #2,946)