Is this a day of celebration, Lord? Or of waiting?

The sun rises no matter the doings — and no way to know the shape of the day until it is formed.

Let me seek your will even at a gray dawn, Lord.

(Letter #3,960)

Distracted by the world — this, too, is your plan for me, Lord. It would not happen were it not your will.

The paths that go where I did not intend, let me enjoy even those and walk them with vigor.

Your will before mine, Lord.

(Letter #3,959)

Even on the neediest days, there is enough to reach its end.

But is this your true gift?

Let me reach a state beyond want and worry, true trust and faith in your grace.

Let me seek and do your will.

I have but to yield.

(Letter #3,958)

When did I awaken? I emerged from sleep bit by bit, when did the threshold get crossed?

I only know that once I was not, but now I am awake to you, Lord.

Let me not worry over the unknowable — but live gratefully, accepting the grace you have given me.

(Letter #3,957)

Asleep on a stone pillow, I awaken today to the possibility of another miracle.

Yesterday, rescue in the nick of time. Why not today?

Surely you, Lord, are in this place, and I was not aware.

Grant me soothing awareness of your grace.

(Letter #3,956)

I have seen many dawns come and go. They are all the same, yet each brought a different day.

After so long, can I trust that the sun will rise again tomorrow? Is there grounds to doubt?

Grant me faith, Lord.

(Letter #3,955)

As I sit here, hoping to feel your hand in mine, thoughts intrude: of the day, of my worries, of trouble.

If I seek oneness with you, union, my wandering mind is what blocks it.

Save me, Lord, save me from distraction.

(Letter #3,954)

You look into my heart, what potential do you see? Whom did you create me to be?

I react and react, following the paths laid down with little thought. At the forks, let me pause and discern.

Whom did you create me to be, Lord? Am I walking in the direction of your vision?

Let me walk toward your voice, Lord.

(Letter #3,953)

Awake by the lakeside. Faint and wanting, like the multitudes.

Give ye me to eat, Lord, as you said before.

Grant me faith, Lord, in your grace. You have not yet failed me.

(Letter #3,952)