Grey daybreak. The sun above the clouds.

Even if I do not see, joy is showered upon the land.

Grant me faith, Lord.

(Letter #3,940)

All this, Lord, for my benefit?

This winding path, this confusion of voices?

After the storm passes, and I have been blown to shore, let me then give thanks for the maelstrom.

Can I thank you, even now?

(Letter #3,939)

The riverbanks overflow. The weeds choke the garden. Wind snuffs out the fire.

I am no match for the world, Lord. Let me reach for your power, grace on offer.

Aligned, my will with yours, the waters recede, the flame ignites, the garden heals.

Let me abandon my will to yours.

(Letter #3,938)

Morning mist.

Yesterday the storm swept through. Today there is no memory.

Must I recall my woes to appreciate the day?

An unclenched fist, an unclenched jaw, an unclenched heart.

Clear sky.

Thank you, Lord.

(Letter #3,937)