I wander the meadow, from spot to spot, without plan. The sun, your sun, shines down and slows the day like honey.

Are my halting movements indolence, or am I appreciating your masterpiece of a day?

Why else have you created this beauty, if not for me to wallow in it?

(Letter #2,980)

Sunlight on the path before me. Shooting through forest canopy, I see it in beams. Light, shadow.

Each passing creature does not take and dim the light; there is no supply to diminish. Even these lonely spotlights do not give out.

I cannot see the beams without dark.

Is the shadow, too, a source that cannot be exhausted? Can I view the darkness as providence, equally as light?

Let me see even absence as your gift, Lord.

(Letter #2,979)

What was once a broad and easy path has narrowed. This is not a way that all can walk; it twists and turns through defiles and along cliff sides.

As we ascend, Lord, will you remain at my side and hold my hand? The heights are dizzying.

A miracle, you walk beside me even where none could. Is the narrowing way the same for all?

Let me walk, that others may follow.

(Letter #2,978)

Time after time, I walk astray. Time after time, you place my feet back on your road. You never tire; seemingly I never never learn.

Will you change me, Lord? For all my intentions, my feet yet wander. Make my pathway straight.

Let your ways be my ways, Lord.

(Letter #2,977)