Dear Father-Mother God, I see my spiritual selfhood reflecting You, but oh, this shadow sense that pursues my weary faith—when will it grow beautifully less? How shall I yield to Thee, almighty Love, when the house of cards builds its flimsy case around me and buries me beneath its collapse? Gratitude? One simple act of gratitude. One tiny blossom of “Thanks” propagates into an abundant burst of Godlike grace— prayer, peace, loveliness, mercy, compassion, tenderness, goodness, ease, balance —hieroglyphs of blessings multiplied “in the infinite calculus of Spirit,”* soothing, healing.
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