What Must I Do?

In "The Fellowship of the Rings" when Gandalf reveals to Frodo the sheer danger that the Ring holds and that it must be destroyed, the little hobbit asks the wizard one simple question: "What must I do?"
This is so striking; it echoes like a bell in my ears. "What must I do?"
Today, reading about meditation in an essay by Joyce Huggett called "Learning the Language of Prayer," I discovered that another way of saying "to meditate" is "to murmur persistently." I want to consider the question, "what must I do?" and meditate on it, murmur it persistently in my heart over and over.
Later, Huggett says that the act of contemplation "goes further and deeper than meditation." Contemplation's main goal is to meet God so that our adoration for him is reignited. "Through contemplation, we open our hearts to receive his love." And prayer becomes essentially a loss of words and is spurred on by a great need for Him. "This leads us on to a place where instead of seeking God, we are found by him." We realize that he was looking for us. "He responds to our longing." We lie in the warm sunshine of his love. "We feel his gaze on us." He refreshes us with his cool winds. "We receive a new perspective on life-- his perspective." We come so near to his spirit that we can see his concern for his people, and from our contemplation rushes intercession as we realize his love for a people in pain.
And so, what must I do? I have caught his compassion for a hurting world. My heart and mind are open.
What must I do?