I expect the sun to rise, the creek to flow, the moon to wax and wane.
I expect the birds to nest, the spider to weave.
The wind to blow and whip.
What constancy, Lord, shall I expect of myself? That I rise with regular habits and dutifully perform my chores? That I am always strong? Such a heavy load.
Is it not enough that I breathe, and feel my feet on the ground?
Let me seek wonder.
(Letter #3,794)
Daily Letters to God 