You slip between and among us, from one to another, whispering and urging towards light and love. Light feet, silent step.

Let me hear you when you whisper to me, Lord, and walk the way you point.

(Letter #3,795)

Gradually, the garden grows until it is heavy. Yesterday nothing; today bounty.

My journey draws long and longer until its end. Yesterday plodding feet on path; today mountain views.

Lord, am I in the middle or the end? Is the end of one story the middle of a longer one?

Let me keep walking.

(Letter #3,794)

The sun peers over the mountains. What does it see?

A waiting valley, in it a village, in it a dwelling, inside a lone figure looking out the window at the sun.

I pine for you, Lord. Do you gaze upon me with the same love?

Let me leave these rooms and feel the sun, your gaze, on my limbs. I was made for this time.

(Letter #3,793)

You planted me here to grow here.

You bid me wander so I could see your world.

You entangle me that I may learn to overcome snares.

You strengthen me that I may support others.

Every complication, part of a simple plan.

Let me grow here.

(Letter #3,792)