Dear God, guide my words.

I awaken anticipating conversation throughout the day. It strikes me with foreboding. I know not what I will say. Let me wait to be moved by you. Let me speak your will as you enter my heart.

Lord, this time before – this time of anticipation. Why do I fear so? I am at the mercy of time: I cannot change the duration of waiting. I must walk through it. Running will not speed my progress.

I can only live moment by moment. Let my thoughts stay here with me, now, and not race ahead.

(Letter #1493)

Dear God, faced with myriad choices, endless branching pathways, how shall I decide? My thinking is a tangle. Filled with so much, the day ahead is broad yet pitifully shallow.

Lord, grant me the gift of a simple mind. Let me dwell on just what is needed. Let it grow and crowd out the trivial, the busy.

I am listening to your song, O Lord. The world will wait with impatience while I slowly think your thoughts.

(Letter #1492)

Dear God, I awaken, I rise. I tend to the needs of my body. Lumbering into motion, I inspect the perimeter, I see what has become misplaced overnight. An item not in its usual spot. Who has been here?

The sun peeks upward and my heart quickens. I arm for battle. Time, now, to leave my dwelling and present myself to the world. Boots, girdle, gauntlets, helmet.

O! This is no way to live, ready always to defend.

Lord. Take me back to my dressing room. Sit me down. Let my belly relax, my breath go slow and deep.

Who called for a warrior? I bring a sword to a wedding feast and am rightly seen as an intruder.

Let me, relaxed and breathing slowly, peel off the armor, set down the weaponry. Sandaled feet, soft clothes, open hands, smiling face. This is how a friend arrives.

Let me be friend to this day.

(Letter #1491)

Dear God, I fear and worry over what is to pass some days in the future. Tomorrow’s tomorrow creeps into this day and kicks over the chairs, chews at the foundations of my home, pours ground glass into my meal.

I ruin myself: today holds calm, yet I dwell upon potential storms.

Lord, turn my attention to your work. Grant me no idle time. Fill me, fill me with industry.

Set to use, I become the cheerful worker. I sing all the while under my load. Tomorrow is forgotten. I have purpose for this day.

(Letter #1490)

Dear God, let me abandon this grasping. Always, there is something that I pursue. My constant companion is worry over whether I will attain the security or status I seek.

Lord, have you long since already answered my cries? Let me see how, around me, all I ask has already come about. Your gentle hand, dear God, let it reach within me and rip out my grasping heart. Let the scales fall from my eyes that I may see the world brightly.

I, your child, am safe. I, your servant, an loved.

You have fashioned me from clay to perform your will. I was made for this time, these circumstances. Let me, your tool, be used.

And yet I crumple myself in woe and glance away and distraction. I make myself useless, a rusted saw.

Let me polish my work surfaces, Lord, and set myself to use. Let not the saw wish it were a fine garment.

(Letter #1489)

Dear God, like a loyal dog, I seek only to be near you.

I do not understand your ways, nor most of your words. You must speak to me simply, show me your will plainly. My abilities are limited. I serve you most by seeking you; in your presence I am safe, whole, and useful.

Lord! I wish simply to be your companion. On which path shall we walk today?

(Letter #1488)

Dear God, my thoughts roam so far. I seek distractions. Like an aimless bird, my attention hops branch to branch. This world I inhabit falls away and my consciousness is far from the present.

Lord, let me become willing to allow this furtive mind to be bridled. Tether me to this moment, it is all I have.

My attention darts to imaginary treasures and dreamy worries. But yank me back here and now. Let my eyes see what is before me. Let my ears hear.

You bless me, Lord, with the capacity to think, and I misuse it, escaping into fantasy. Drive a stake into the ground, tie me up, lest I stray and lose myself.

(Letter #1487)