The road from where I am, to where you would have me be, runs through brambles and wasteland.
On the journey you are with me, my Providence, even as desolation crowds on all sides.
Fear grips and body trembles. Here is comfort. There is exaltation. Have I wherewithal for what lies between?
Through penury to plenty; through weakness to power.
Hold my hand, Lord, and be the wind at my back.
(Letter #2,966)
Daily Letters to God 
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