Blessed Are The Poor In

Let Me Follow In Thy Footsteps, O Jesus ! I Would Imitate Thee, But Cannot Without The Aid Of Thy Grace! O Humble And Lowly Saviour, Grant Me The Knowledge Of The True Christian, And That I May Willingly Despise Myself; Let Me Learn The Lesson So Incomprehensible To The Mind Of Man, That I Must Die To Myself By An Abandonment That Shall Produce True Humility.

We Must Have Faith During The Period Of Our Grief. We Think That Our Afflictions Will Be Greater Than We Can Bear, But We Do Not Know The Strength Of Our Own Hearts, Nor The Power Of God. He Knows All. He Knows Every Folding Of The Heart And Also The Extent Of The Sorrow That He Inflicts. What We Think Will Overwhelm Us Entirely Only Subdues And Conquers Our Pride. Our Renewed Spirit Rises From Its Subjugation With A Celestial Strength And Consolation.

Let Us Pray God That He Would Root Out Of Our Hearts Every Thing Of Our Own Planting, And Set Out There, With His Own Hands, The Tree Of Life, Bearing All Manner Of Fruits.

The Best Use One Can Make Of His Mind Is To Distrust It.

People Who Have No Secrets From Each Other Never Want For A Subject Of Conversation. They Do Not Weigh Their Words, For There Is Nothing To Be Held Back, Neither Do They Seek For Something To Say. They Talk Out Of The Abundance Of Their Heart, Without Consideration They Say Just What They Think. Blessed Are They Who Attain To Such Familiar, Unreserved Intercourse With God.