Sunday, September 18, 2022

Is the day a precious stone to be polished and placed on display? A pile of jewels has little use.

Is the day a home, a dwelling place, to be constructed and joined with craft?

This dry roof keeps away the rains, the walls hold in the heat against the winter.

Lord, let me make good use of this day.

(Letter #2,478)

Saturday, September 17, 2022

I was on a narrow, craggy track, winding along cliffsides.

You widened my path and made the ground firm. I now stroll through meadows. The way is roomy.

Am I to take pride in these changed circumstances? This ease is a gift, grace – it came undeserved and it can be lost.

Thank you, Lord, for your peace. Let me share with others your ways.

(Letter #2,747)

Friday, September 16, 2022

In a secret place, you made me.

The path of my days was set before my first dawn.

Power hums through the world, I walk roads with you by my side.

This joy of life, open to all, let all feel it.

Let us walk in power, these brothers and sisters, your children, dear Lord.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made. We are yours.

(Letter #2,746)

Tuesday, September 13, 2022

So week, ill-prepared, ill-suited to the tasks I face.

Lord, will you enter my heart, strengthen my will, grant me courage?

Above all, give me faith, Lord. You have rescued me so many times before, how could you not do so again?

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,743)

Monday, September 12, 2022

Peering out from my rooms, I fear the day. Will I get what I want? Will trouble rain down? Will calamity strike?

But you have already ordered of the world, laid the paths, numbered my steps.

I need but walk out to meet the day.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,742)

Sunday, September 11, 2022

These flaws in me, which I seek to improve – my pride, my self-pity, my judgment, my doubt – will you take them away?

I play architect, yet you are the potter and I the clay. Re-form me, Lord.

Grant me equanimity.

Let me live content in all circumstances. Thy will be done.

(Letter #2,741)

Saturday, September 10, 2022

If you are with me unto the end of my days, then surely you are with me now. Today, you are with me.

Let me see you in the glint of light on a pond, in the rustle of leaves as a goldfinch hops from a branch.

Let the sun warm the nape of my neck in my hours of labor.

Be with me today, Lord.

(Letter #2,740)