Precariously close to the sun, walking the ridgeline, you with me with you.

Yet I fly precariously high.

Tether me, tether my thoughts, tether my motives.

Made to reflect you, Lord, let me remain yet grounded.

(Letter #3,760)

You are always with me; your arms always hold me; I am ever under your grace.

What news? Therefore there can be none. Always peace.

Tides, weather, war, moods — they come and go.

Left behind, a clearing with you, and me. Your will driving mine, whether I see or no.

No news, Lord: only you.

(Letter #3,759)

Am I enough? Wracked by awareness of my own shortcomings, I forget you.

Let me remember: You have drawn me with loving-kindness.

With you, Lord, I am enough.

(Letter #3,758)

Bright sun beats down. Already, in morning, it is warm.

While I stand erect, fellows crawl, weakened by the bright heat. How did I come to thrive where others shrink?

Let me offer relief to my neighbors, peace to all who come to me.

Let them learn, as me, to love the sunshine.

(Letter #3,757)