My challenges, so small compared to those of others. Yet, Lord, over my victories you rejoice. I, your child, with small hands and frame.

Strengthen me, Lord, for tomorrow’s larger work.

(Letter #3,318)

In the morn, I cling to you from my quiet seat.

At noon I have forgotten, overcome by events and motion.

In the eve, worry cascades as I reflect on all that remains undone.

A cycle of forgetting you, Lord.

Let me remember you at noon, just as at dawn.

(Letter #3,317)

From without, my dwelling place is quiet, with gentle smoke rising from the chimney.

Within, am I frantically stoking the fire and cleaning baseboards, preparing for guests? Am I slothful in recline, doing the bare minimum?

A bucolic view hides many realities.

Lord, let my inner self match the outer. Let me be whole.

(Letter #3,316)

Chosen, not from notability or strength — but for weakness and need. You lent me grace, Lord, when I needed it most.

You fill my lack, perfect and whole. Let me cleave to you, Lord, with so many shortcomings to overcome. Who else could buoy me like you?

Grant me knowledge of your will for me, and the power to carry it out.

(Letter #3,315)