It is a very sweet thing to come into your presence, O Lord. Very sweet. Having you I have all. And what profit is it for a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?
You are the Creator, the king, the wise disposer of all things. And so, O Lord, where you have ordered and it cannot be changed, let me bow humbly and trust deeply. Let not my care, my restlessness, my discontent, be for those things. Let my care, restlessness, discontent rather be for those things that are my duties, my freedoms, my stewardship, my service, the places that are my responsibility and the places, therefore, of influence. Rather than be consumed with self-pity and discontent, let me steward my influence ( considerable, in God's providence, for a woman ) and learn to love better, deeper, more generously. If I honor, love, give, serve, conditioned on others' deserving, I shall invoke the wrath of God against myself, for if He follows my example, I am hell-bound.
Lord, you providential crossing of my will and your continuing to do so after repeated entreaties, leaves me conquered. The upper hand I wished for is not mine but yours. And when by your grace I am in my right mind, I am as happy there as a servant under the most just King, a student under the wisest teacher, a vile beggar welcomed, pardoned, clothed and seated at a banquet.