The oak drinks in the sunlight, wind, and rain, to become its strongest self.

Today comes the storm to strengthen your child, Lord. I will walk upright under your skies, go the way you point, pass on what you whisper to me, offer cheer and succor to my fellows, carry neighbors’ burdens with my sturdy back.

You built me for purpose, made for times such as these. While I live, let me thus live.

(Letter #3,384)