Make me an instrument...
Prayer of St. Francis
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 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.
I've been saying this prayer since I was a child. Today, I felt like I was living this prayer... Or rather, the prayer was living me. I have the great privilege of taking part in a sacred circle sharing teachings that I feel so passionately about with a group of amazing women.
As I take my seat in the sacred circle I acknowledge and bow to all the teachers who have shared the profound teachings of yoga with me. I ask for their blessing and pray that I may become an instrument for God's Grace.
As I take my seat in the sacred circle I recognize myself in the faces of each and every other woman in that circle. Each one bringing to the circle their own struggles and their own profound wisdom. Each of us showing up with open hearts and open minds.
It is in giving that we receive.... I was presented with an opportunity to practice this. I am grateful that I had the clarity of mind to recognize this opportunity. The opportunity also helped me to understand that perhaps the reason I experienced the recent "trauma" was to prepare me for the opportunity to give what I, myself, needed to receive. So often I struggle with the perception that all these bad things are happening TO me. Today I had the realization that these "struggles" are actually happening FOR me.
Today, I felt the Grace of God flowing through me as I shared the sacred teachings of the Upanishads with this group of amazing women. As the teachings flowed through me each word was meant for me. It was in giving that I received. Each word that passed through my heart felt like the hand of God healing my shattered heart. One piece at a time. Where there was despair...hope, Where there was darkness...light, Where there is injury...Pardon. Where there was sadness...joy.
In the words of my mother... "God loves me... He really loves me."
Sometimes, I feel like I need to pinch myself. How luck am I that I get to share the teachings that I feel so passionately about in sacred circles with some truly remarkable people. And How lucky am I to have a friend who made that possible? I am eternally grateful to her for having more confidence in me than I had in myself.
How lucky am I that in the process of sharing God's message I receive the message I've been seeking?