Listen to the wind sing through the lines while we huddle below.
Even tied down, our stores may be swept away.
Later, becalmed, without provisions — will we lose hope? Will we recall this storm and wish we had taken different action?
Will we realize that only an empty cup can be filled, and thank you for tonight’s wind?
Infinite grace, day after day, inexhaustible and ever renewing.
Let the lines sing.
(Letter #3,438)
Daily Letters to God 
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