finding it harder and
harder to find the good,
the beautiful, the true
seems everyone hates
each other for the ways
they hate the other
the irony, to me, is plain
and still I feel the fire
in my belly, rising
"Lord, make me an instrument of
your peace," *
Not with cheap platitudes,
Jesus-jukes, not a pretend
peace that sounds pretty...
but turns out to be hollow.
Instead, make me soft to the
stories and burdens of
every image bearer I meet,
holding their hurt carefully,
drawing near in love,
that I would walk in this
world of hostility, division,
and fear holding out grace
to all who have ears to hear
and hearts to receive, drinking
from your deep well of peace. *from the peace prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi
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