Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is discord, harmony;

Where there is error, truth;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And 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 as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

O thou most sweet and loving Lord, Thou knowest mine infirmities and the necessities which I endure; in how great evils and sins I am involved; how often I am weighed down, tempted and disturbed by them. I entreat of Thee consolation and support. I speak to Thee Who knowest all things, to whom all my inward thoughts are open, and who alone canst perfectly comfort and help me. Thou knowest what things I stand in most need of.

Behold, I stand before thee poor and naked, calling for grace, and imploring mercy. Refresh thy hungry supplicant, kindle my coldness with the fire of Thy love, enlighten my blindness with thy brightness of Thy presence. Suffer me not to go away from Thee hungry and dry; but deal mercifully with me, as oftentimes Thou hast dealt wonderfully with Thy saints.

Amen.

Thomas a Kempis