Calamity may await outside, but here in this room it has not yet touched.
The floor needs sweeping; the baseboards washing. Hold my hand, Lord, balm for my woes, while I mop. Even as a sword dangles overhead, let me turn to simple chores.
Let me then greet the outside day with an orderly heart. Let me make space for you, Lord, to hold fast my hand even in tumult.
(Letter #3,939)
Daily Letters to God 