Already have I the treasures you promised. Sturdy back, alert mind, open heart. Yet I ask and ask and ask.

I ask for relief, for riches, for regard.

Lord, let me walk simply and erect today, bringing joy to those around me with the news: we are all already okay.

And let me, too, be already okay.

(Letter #3,394)

Walking, walking, the path meanders like a creek through a meadow. A crow would fly straight, yet you have my steps turning one way and another.

Is it to slow me enough to learn care? To delay, that another may catch up? Would a straight road quicken my pace?

Let me enjoy this broad highway, Lord, even as it turns.

(Letter #3,393)

What harm could befall me, Lord, with you at my side and directing my steps?

The worry about later trials is greater than the trial itself.

When the challenge comes, grant me words to respond. Before, grant me calm and assurance that you will provide what is needed.

Be with me, Lord — before, during, after. Thy will be done.

(Letter #3,392)

The morn brings with it trial. Am I enough? You buoy me, walk with me — that no circumstance is too much.

Where I fail, you succeed that I may see and learn.

Where I fear, you comfort me, that I may grow courage.

Let me depend upon you today, Lord.

(Letter #3,391)

Let me bring silence. Where a space needs filling, you will fill It.

Let me do less, be more.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #3,390)

Empty bowl, bare plate, open cupboard. Not bereft. Ready to be filled.

The aftermath of surrender is peace and power.

Complete abandon. Grant me total surrender, my will to yours, dear Lord.

(Letter #3,389)

What is my need today? Do I need strength, resources, patience, courage?

Do I even know?

Lord, sneak into my heart and guide my thoughts. Let me rely wholly on you.

(Letter #3,388)

Today is today. This day’s load is sufficient for this day.

Tomorrow will come, let it.

Lord, you hold my hand when I need it — let tomorrow’s worry stay where it is.

Let today be today.

(Letter #3,387)

The one who opens the way, the one who holds my hand. The one upon whom all rests.

Crushed under a weight and frightened at my shadow, you come to me an buoy me. You lighten my step and strengthen my spine. My voice does not quaver when the words are yours.

My power. Constant companion and friend.

Let me live as you would have me today, Lord.

(Letter #3,386)

Stone by stone, brick by brick, limb by limb.

Do I describe a burden borne, or the materials of a home?

Walking the lakeside, calling to my fellows, who will follow?

Let us build and bear burdens together.

(Letter #3,385)