Sunday, November 29, 2020

Behind this rock, we are in a small pool of calm. The wind blows on the other side.

I am pinned through my fear of the gale. Any move will take me out of the shadow.

Is it a storm or sunshine? Is the wind illusion? The rock?

Let me walk upright through the morning, Lord. Make me willing to be seen.

(Letter #2,150)

Saturday, November 28, 2020

I erect a fence around my small plot, but why? What is there to take?

Storms come and uproot maple and oak. Will my fence keep out the wind?

I carry nothing and roam, like the other creatures, and we strike a balance. Provision appears and shelter is found.

So small, a bug on a plate, yet still you love me. Why do I not see?

O! Let me walk with the wind.

(Letter #2,149)

Friday, November 27, 2020

Early, dawn. Mist around my waist. Are these times your answer to my prayers?

In anguish, I called out, “Help me, Lord,” and fell to my knees.

Here is relief, in quiet mist. None trouble me and I have food in the storehouse.

You have made a gift to me of ease.

(Letter #2,148)

Thursday, November 26, 2020

The barn has fallen, the roof has opened, the wood is soft.

Still I will rejoice.

The harvest was meager, the seed corn eaten.

Still I will rejoice.

Plague hovers over the land.

Still I will rejoice.

Lord, give me ears to hear your song, which you sing even in the gloom. Dawn is always on the way; dark of night makes me ready for it.

Make me ready, Lord. I will rejoice.

(Letter #2,147)

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Arms crossed, back turned – yet you await me. I need but open my door.

Yet instead I survey the contents of my shelves, wondering if the jars will last until spring.

What if I left the cellar and walked in sun?

O Providence, you await my approach!

(Letter #2,146)

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

No great deeds await; this day will be filled with quiet duties. These are great enough.

Will I see the small miracles all around me? Why wait I for a shower of treasure when, drip by drip, pools of gold have already accumulated at my ankles?

Lord, let me quietly attend to these chores.

(Letter #2,145)

Monday, November 23, 2020

Gifts received:

  • Fear, that I may avoid wrong.

  • Pain, that I may learn.

  • Trial, that I may grow stronger.

  • Ignominy, that I may appreciate your true love.

What treasures are these, dear Lord? I am wealthy thereby.

Thank you, Friend.

(Letter #2,144)

Sunday, November 22, 2020

I will set off walking with no pack and no cloak. You will provide.

I will speak to the crowds with no notes. Your words will come.

I will jump into the river still clothed. You will give me buoyancy to rescue the drowning ones.

How dare I scratch for meager portions?

O! Let me marvel at all the ways you guide and protect me.

Thy will is being done already.

(Letter #2,143)