A tightened spring, unwinding breath by breath. How did it get this way overnight?

Lord, let my regular pace, and even breathing, and careful balance, and steady gaze, work its wonders.

Pick me up, rigid clay figure, and breathe life and ease into me.

(Letter #3,788)

For the ground to hold me up, there is nothing I need do.

To keep from flying away, there is nothing I need do.

Why struggle so?

(Letter #3,787)

Do I sow chaos and discord, even as I try to walk gently? How can I know the effects of my footsteps?

Lord, let me seek ever more to create harmony.

(Letter #3,786)

In the garden. The fence keeps me on my plot more than it keeps away intruders.

Can I love this fence, which circumscribes my day? Within it I have freedom to move, to dig, to grow.

You are Lord of limitation as much as you are Lord of power and freedom. Lord of grace, above all.

Let me give thanks for the edges of this garden plot.

(Letter #3,795)