Grey dawn breaks over a sodden field. Overnight storms. Repairs will be needed. The crew grumbles at the wet and the effort.
Am I to grumble at the inexorable work of the day? Or sing at chance to be outside? My voice may be lone, but they who hear in the distance may find the hours pass more swiftly.
Is there a better way to live, than with you, Lord? Then let me sing the news.
(Letter #4061)
Daily Letters to God 