The world glows with soft light; my fellows see it ablaze and cower. Let me soothe them.

Let me have compassion for all those I see today.

Let me serve your ends, Lord.

(Letter #2,994)

You make my paths straight. Do you set me down upon the right way, or do you take my tangled skein of steps and stretch them taught? If I call to you, do you come to me — or direct me to you?

Is the garden I tend in the world, or in myself?

Lord, sitting on this cushion, without movement, I feel the world revolve around me. But I am the one who moves. Let me see my part, and become willing to play it.

(Letter #2,993)

Noise and chaos greet the morning.

You, your presence as love, honey dripping over troubled ground.

Unclenched hands and jaw.

Let me remember this peace come noon.

(Letter #2,992)

Are you refuge, are you support? Do I shelter under your protection, or do you buoy me upon the waves?

Do I go to find you, or do you come to me even before my need?

Must there be division? Maybe I go to you equally as you are already there for me. Maybe you are everywhere already.

Let me see you, even in the shadows at the edges of my quiet rooms. Nowhere do I need go to find you.

(Letter #2,991)

Am I already free? Is your will that I be free?

Do I already live in joy? Is this your will for me?

Am I already whom you would have me be?

Your grace astounds me, Lord, so many gifts already given. The work remains, for me to see what I already have.

Let me work toward your will today.

(Letter #2,990)

Is each day better than the last? On an upward mountain path, does every step climb?

My road rises and falls, yet at its end I find myself well above my starting point.

Let me see well beyond just these footfalls, Lord.

(Letter #2,989)

Peace I desire — therefore peaceful acts shall I do.

Joy do I seek — therefore let me sow joy.

Carrying a heavy burden, I seek relief. Let me lighten others’ loads, that relief may come to me.

Ease already within me, I need only express it.

The light house shines for others.

(Letter #2,988)

Is the real here, in the lonely quiet before dawn? Or at noon in the market place, all bustle and action?

In the quiet, it is easy to understand how you support me. The soft voice easily heard even as a whisper.

In the crowd, your voice fades, your grace disappears like mist.

Strengthen my hearing and trust in the quiet times, that when you come to me at noon I will listen.

It is in the crowd that I need you, Lord.

(Letter #2,987)

Retired impoverished, awakened to wealth. What changed? You were with me at dusk as equally now at dawn.

My eyes see the treasure, yesterday hidden and today heaped around me, a storehouse overflowing.

Your love, your providence.

If this wealth was always here, if I was always already among it — how much more might I expect in later days, when today’s unseen is revealed, tomorrow?

A daily miracle unfolding. An everyday miracle.

Today, tomorrow.

Your nearness, your peace.

(Letter #2,986)

Along this stony piece of road, the sun shines and breeze cools. The difficult patch is an episode in a love-drama.

Is it possible, once awakened, to awaken yet more? Can I see more clearly and then more again?

Each day, Lord, comes more revelation. The weight of each moment lessens, the story arc of life bends toward joy, I see I already have what I pine for.

We, your children, are wealthy already beyond measure. Let me further awaken.

(Letter #2,985)