What will I say of this day? That I met it fully? That I was equal to its challenges?

That I entered it as a child, naked and powerless, dependent wholly on you, Lord?

Empty handed, I timidly walk into the dawn. This is the time of trust. You will be with me, Lord. You are already with me.

What I need I will be given. Let this faith grow, Lord.

(Letter #3,768)

The storm comes — even as spring breaks across the land. Are my preparations enough?

Winds may sweep aside even the strongest building. Cliffs crumble into the sea eventually.

Let me learn to live in the winds, Lord.

(Letter #3,767)

New fields I walk through. New pathways I trod.

On the threshold of the day, we sit and confer in murmurs. Which way? Which new way will be ours?

Even after all these years, each day, a new day.

(Letter #3,766)

Walking across a grassy field, a trickling and winding stream. I step over easily.

Lord, here is the power you promised. These drops, collected into a flowing body, later to join a mighty river.

Which drops will support great barges? Which will wear away cliff faces?

They all will. We all will.

I will.

(Letter #3,765)