I’m trying.

Trying to see the trees.

Trying to sit still and smell the dew.

Trying to be the accepting sea, welcoming all rivers into me.

Trying, Lord, to stop trying.

(Letter #3,779)

What is this new dawn I nearly tripped over on my way to noon sun?

Striding the field, long steps, let me slow pace and see the creekside and its pools.

Energy comes in the form of breath. Breathe is the sun and long grass.

Let me live each moment, Lord. Thank you for this miracle day.

(Letter #3,778)

Dizzy, in the wilderness with few paths, at a fork. Which is the better road?

Now is the hardest thing: rely upon you to intercede where I think I may know the way.

Let me have that humility, Lord. Let me rely upon you.

(Letter #3,777)

You have overcome the world, Lord.

You are the world.

What shall I overcome? Self?

The sun is risen, let me walk upright.

Let me be fully who I am, Lord.

(Letter #3,776)

A leaf on the water. A paper cup in the wind.

Lord, today let me choose, not drift.

(Letter #3,775)

Ease is all around; trial momentary.

Even sustained exertion brings small sips of breath. In, hold, release.

Let me be a living oasis, Lord, for those who are weary under the yoke of the world. Let me offer the ease I have found, that you have shown me.

The good news to share: all is well. All will be well.

(Letter #3,774)

I awaken, again, by the smooth lakeside. Still air. Pebbly beach. Air neither cool nor warm.

From a fetal curl, to hugging knees and watching the slow lapping water.

Will they come to sit beside me? Those who pass by, will they see you next to me?

You whisper to me. Am I hearing you rightly? How can I know, other than to try what you say: be still, await visitors, offer encouragement. Is it that simple?

The waves lap, and lap. Pebbles crunch as I shift my seat.

That simple.

(Letter #3,773)

Meet me, Lord.

In the morning.

In the stillness at lakeside.

In the bustle of noon.

In the chirping crescendo of dusk by the pond.

In the exhaustion of eventide.

You come to me wherever I go, whenever I go.

O! Joy when you meet me.

You always meet me.

(Letter #3,772)

Slumbering through dawn, let the brightening skies awaken me.

Numb to the warm breeze, let this winding walk awaken me.

Unaware of the ripples from my actions, let my neighbors and fellows awaken me.

Let your world awaken me, Lord.

(Letter #3,771)

Yesterday’s error, I bring its memory into this day.

Hope for tomorrow, I bring it too.

Today and this moment, the only reality, yet equally filled with memory and potential.

Thank you, Lord, for yesterday and tomorrow.

(Letter #3,770)