On a narrow path, O how I would like to see around the corner! Is the next leg uphill?

What matter if the road becomes more stony, or widens to a broad highway — there is always the same distance to travel to day’s end.

Equip me, Lord, with fresh eyes and heart.

(Letter #3992)

Pressed, I call out to you. Grant me relief, I cry.

Even in woe, I know you are answering. Can I make my plea into thanks? Can I express gratitude for future ease, when even now I am a raw nerve?

You will make me a new way, Lord. Let me give thanks.

(Letter #3991)

I am not the one I was years ago. New flesh, new habits, new values.

Did you make me this way through scraping removal?

Did it grow from the inside out?

Today, Lord: Shall I take away yet more? Shall I nurture the spring deep inside my heart?

Moment by moment, let me make your choice. Let not the road be hard.

(Letter #3990)

My way is parceled out in days, hours, minutes, moments. Walking toward the summit, goal in sight, I still must attend to where I place each step.

The road is stony and I might turn an ankle if my attention wanders.

Let me look to what is before me, Lord, and give thanks for each moment.

(Letter #3989)

Walking. A blocked pathway. I cannot see past the first turn: Is this a lesson to be learned? A challenge to be overcome? Are you sparing me heartache?

Can I be joyous no matter the answer?

(Letter #3988)

All around me, silence. Dawn. Forest growth. Spreading light.

Let me not rush to bring heavy foot falls and noise, conquering with industry. Let me walk lightly, silently, with care.

Let the silence gather, that I may hear you, Lord.

(Letter #3987)

The tool must be sharp before it can be used to good effect. The walls must be reinforced ere the winds come.

Let this be a day of honing, Lord. Let me be willing to become a sharpened instrument.

(Letter #3986)

From the smallest to the largest things, Lord, do you aid me. A cluttered room — I have wherewithal to tidy. Depleted resources — increase comes. Illness — healing.

If everything is possible, grant me a directed mind. Let me turn my attention to your will.

Let me let go my thoughts, that I may hear your small voice more clearly.

(Letter #3,985)

I have mapped out my way — the path to a summit I crave. The day dawns and I am ready to set out.

You direct my steps, Lord. Where will I end up? There may be a digression without my even knowing.

I thought I would spend the night at camp; yet you have brought me back home.

(Letter #3,984)

Winter. Yet within, my heart quickens. Is this the day of revelation? For whom or what do I wait?

Could I have known this power all along?

Now, with strong heart, show me your will.

(Letter #3,983)