a sick mother's prayer




Maria's photo

in memory of my wonderful mom


A sick mother's prayer

Maria Cecília de M. Duprat


O Lord, make me humble enough to accept that I am now being served, the one who used to wait on others so wholeheartedly at all times. Grant that I may accept the burden of being dependent - heavier than the burden of pain!


Grant that I may accept the trouble I am now, the disturbance this disease causes. This sacrifice was needed that I might comprehend what you once said: "There is more joy in giving than in receiving ..." I do not want to dwell on the hustle and bustle of old. Neither do I wish to miss the manifold examples of my labors for others.


Today my altar is this bed and my world, this confined room.

In this succession of endless days and hours, I want my inertness to bear fruit as a seed watered by the blood of Christ.

Like Abraham, let me say at every moment, "Here I am, Lord!"

Let this be my response to anything you ask of me. I may not actually hear your voice, but I will certainly sense your whisper in everything around me, all that circumstances have imposed.

I want even this deep silence engulfing me to convey what you expect from me.

May my pain encompass the whole world in a yearning for salvation. As a living Mass, let me be the final droplet of water dissolved in the wine to be with Christ Jesus one single Oblation.

Help me, O Father. I am frail and faltering, but I do want to be true to your will.

Even under the weight of the wood, according to your will, may I ever say, “Fiat! Here I am, O Lord!”

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