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Lord, make me an instrument
of your peace.
.
Where there is hatred,
. . let me sow love.
Where there is injury,
. . pardon.
Where there is doubt,
. . faith.
Where there is despair,
. . hope.
Where there is darkness,
. . light.
Where there is sadness,
. . joy.
.
O Divine Master, grant
that I may not so much seek:
To be consoled, as
to console.
To be understood,
and to understand.
To be loved, as to
love.
.
For it is in giving
that we receive.
It is in pardoning
that we are pardoned.
It is in dying that
we are born to eternal live.
St. Francis
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Our
Deepest Fear
Bad Poetry Day
Desiderada
If
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