I labor; is it to build my own home or fence? Am I the only one to eat from my small garden plot?

Or shall I build benches along the road for all to use in rest? A well for the town? An alpine shelter for weary mountain explorers?

Shall I throw open my orchard for all to pick fruit?

Such a meager life if only I benefit.

Let me work for others, Lord.

(Letter #3,464)

A reservoir, filled by many trickling streams. On no single inlet does my thirst depend.

You supply me in so many ways, Lord. Open door after open door, why do I worry about one closing?

Only in self sufficiency do I encounter lack. Let me rightly depend on you, Lord.

(Letter #3,463)

Align my thoughts and deeds, Lord.

What good if I do no harm, yet harbor malice inside? What good if my labor is diligent, yet inside I pine for idle hours?

The world sees my actions but you, Lord, see my inner life.

Let me become more than my deeds.

(Letter #3,462)

Are my prayers worthy of your power, Lord?

You move mountains, and crumble hillsides into the sea. Yet I ask for such minor things. Release from worry. Trials overcome. Small joy.

Let me seek what you can give.

(Letter #3,461)

Two green shoots. The sun shines equally upon them. One’s growth does not take away the other’s.

Let me share the sun today, Lord.

(Letter #3,460)

I wonder — what is your will for me today, Lord?

Yet is it not obvious? The path winds forward; I need but walk it. All will be provided.

And yet I tie my thinking on knots. Untangle me, Lord, and let me walk under your will.

(Letter #3,459)

This weight I carry in a heavy sack — is it in fact a rare treasure?

Knock, you said, and the door will open. But I stand as before a wall, arms at my sides.

Grant me eyes to see rightly today, Lord. The world brims with beauty and search for the greys.

(Letter #3,458)

The way is clear and well lit. Why do I pretend it is hidden? Why feign ignorance?

Even as I start, I distract myself and wander.

Grant me an orderly march, Lord.

(Letter #3,457)

I awaken, and begin making choices about my day, my path, my deeds.

The storms blow and overcome my plans. The sun shines and the spring changes my mood.

At day’s end, I had no idea I would be at this oasis. My choices would have led me far from here.

This world is yours, Lord, whether I admit it or not.

(Letter #3,456)

Every need, met with supply.

Supply sufficient to the day.

No lack; yet, too, no excess.

My difficulties will be removed. My worries, then, are rebellion.

Let me trust, Lord, in grateful obedience.

(Letter #3,455)