Cloak after garment, let me shed, until I stand bare before the world, under the sun.

From this clear beginning foundation will emerge a mighty tower.

Today the work is clearing.

(Letter #4002)

On a bare plane, wind whipped and bright sun at noon: let me come face to face with myself, see myself with truth.

You have given me nowhere to hide, Lord, that I may see more clearly.

Thank you, Lord, for truth.

(Letter #4001)

What is beneath the foundations of the world, beneath even your everlasting arms?

Support, all the way down, never ending.

How, then, could the day’s pathway fail?

Let me walk without worry, Lord, even through the busiest storms.

(Letter #4000)

Are your plans my plans? Can I bring my thoughts into alignment with yours?

No matter how I struggle, the sun will rise and later set.

Let me walk the road you have laid for me.

(Letter #3999)

Am I huddled by a dwindling fire, or peering into embers for wisdom? Looking from afar, none could tell.

There is nothing unfolding in the day, Lord, upon which your light has not already shone.

Let my shivering be the anticipation of a racehorse.

(Letter #3998)

My troubles — light and momentary.

My feet — those of a deer.

You have made me for a time such as this.

Are you training me, or using me, Lord?

(Letter #3997)

The joy I seek will sneak up upon me, I know. Yet I go looking for it.

Turn my attention to contributing, Lord. Let me add to the world.

Let your rewards creep towards me unseen.

(Letter #3996)

The sun will rise today just the once; I will see noon and evening only once as well.

Let me not rehearse and walk through past and future needlessly.

Let me live today.

(Letter #3995)

The stream runs into a pond; let it not stop there, stagnant, but instead find exit and flow on to the sea.

You shine on me, Lord, give me strength, relieve my troubles.

This love, let me not solely receive it, but reflect it and pass it on onto others.

(Letter #3994)

You gave me strength to awaken into the morn, to walk through noon, to last through evening. What shall I do with it?

Let me not judge those I would help. Let me not grumble when my reserves are taxed. You filled the coffers before, Lord, you will do so again.

Let me have a steady gait today, Lord.

(Letter #3993)