Let me be kind, Lord.

To the frightened, to the pressed-down, to the children, to the beleaguered.

Let me bring your voice of hope.

(Letter #3,423)

Falling, or flying? The wind rushes by my ears.

Lord, you meet me here, where my need is most. Catch me, hold me, lift me.

It was not until you held me that I was brave enough to open my eyes. Look, my friends, the eagles!

How could I have even asked for this gift? My need became wealth.

Thank you, Lord.

(Letter #3,422)

I am awake. How can I know? Is not this day like a dream, spinning out from a wheel?

I am awake to the things the world has hidden: the glowing love you have for your children, Lord, the soul-riches you have heaped at our feet.

The world is not the world. Let me live closer to you, Lord.

(Letter #3,421)

If you speak to me through others’ mouths, then I must be ready to speak as well.

To speak for you, Lord, the obligation is staggering.

You call us not simply to keep our homes tidy and do our chores — but to tend to the public spaces and village greens, to watch over one another.

Let others see you through me.

(Letter #3,420)