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)