The rough roads will become smooth, the crooked straight. The wind will turn to my back, and the sun shine its warmth.

Has it not ever been thus? My imagined woes are illusory, my trials trivial.

I am yours, Lord, and accepting of your abundant grace.

(Letter #3,336)

Overflow — of support, of joy, of gifts, of grace.

Let me come to you, Lord, and receive.

(Letter #3,335)

The storms come, yet I skip with joy even under heavy rains.

A sunny day, wherefore then my gloom and sullenness?

My moods come and go like mist, claiming me then burning away, yet with no substance.

The path, the journey, remains. Let me learn, Lord, to walk through the mist.

(Letter #3,334)

I was made for this day, these times.

My strength is equal to this day, as it has been yesterday and yesterday, as it will be tomorrow and tomorrow.

What shivers, Lord, to know that you built me for purpose!

(Letter #3,333)