In a quiet room, preparing before dawn for the day which has not yet arrived, all is potential.

The beginnings of my steps are stamped by my thoughts.

What will happen? Whom will I meet? Where will I go? All answered anon, yet my own choices set me off in one direction or another.

Right thoughts, right action.

Guide my thinking today, Lord.

(Letter #4056)

Warm sun. Morning chores await, let me enjoy this time in springtime air. There will be plenty of time for worry later.

You made me to live each moment under your care, Lord. Let me do what is before me with glad heart.

Lo, the birds sing!

(Letter #4055)

I stand before the gathering dawn, arms stretched. Why am I here?

For battle? To aid the weak? To inspire the fearful? To speak truth?

Might it be, Lord, that I am here simply to tend these gardens?

Tools piled at my feet. Let me pick them up and do your will, Lord.

(Letter #4054)

Each choice must I make one by one. Pearls on a string. Steps on a walk. Moment upon moment.

A miracle, you grant me freedom for each.

Let me not decide tomorrow today, Lord.

(Letter #4053)

Feeling my way in the dark. Picking my steps slowly.

Lights on, still so much I cannot see. The air, invisible between me and the door. What is outside the exit, around the corner, equally invisible.

You, Lord, hidden from view.

Did I need the light after all?

Grant me the faith of feeling hands.

(Letter #4052)

The night was fraught; dawn brings a new outlook.

Yesterday is buried; today lives on.

The sun shines on fresh soil.

Can I live, Lord, like the day, perpetually new?

(Letter #4051)

A walk like any other: yesterday, last week. The trees look on with affection, the hillsides smile.

There is a secret world rooting for me. Can I see it?

Let my eyes become open to all the ways you are my greatest friend, Lord.

(Letter #4050)

I was alone when I awoke, now, yet in solitude, are you with me.

You go before me into the day, you are with me throughout, you follow behind as well.

Could it then be said I awoke alone? Or was that illusion?

Lord, let me feel your arms beneath me.

(Letter #4049)

I look down the valley, at gathering clouds, and wonder: Will this storm reach the village? Must we close the shutters?

The winds may shift, the skies may disperse, the rains may be gentle, there may be other matters to which to attend.

Who can know what the next day brings, let alone the next season?

Let me live close to you, Lord. Grant me grace to know the way to walk, today, that I may be in best position to do your will tomorrow.

(Letter #4048)

My roots deep, limbs reaching high. Who could have seen such growth in the future, when I was a small shoot in mud?

Am I now being moved to a new realm? Do I grasp new soil?

Let me, Lord, grow where I am.

(Letter #4047)