I collect and save trial, difficulty — all in a great storehouse. My pile of woe I polish until it gleams. Yesterday’s troubles, living on and on.
These are not today’s troubles. They are shadows. Today’s path is not yet walked.
Do old ghosts serve me? The day sparkles with dew, how does my brooding improve it?
Let me release my grip on these old ways, Lord. You teach me to be more a child. Let me abandon myself.
(Letter #2,975)
Daily Letters to God 