Oh, my Lord, to what does it profit that you should bring me here. I am young, far before the age and wisdom my blessed predecessors have wielded so powerfully for Your name. I have so much fear, so much uncertainty in my position. I look about and see the lives and holy work of so many clergy who have dedicated themselves to You far longer than I and it is I who am to be their Father? Oh, I shall need so many of your graces if this is to come to anything good, O Lord.
But even as I say these words, I feel the guilt which I have incured in questioning Your wisdom, that Holy Wisdom far beyond our own comprehensions, for You indeed see much that we cannot. Yet, O Lord, might you deign to stoop to my lowly ear and hearten a heart that feels so unready?
I know now this, my Lord, that I cannot hope to this without you. Should I step out upon my own accord, wrap myself about with titles, silver, gold, and silks, I shall surely fall. For the things of this world are but temporary, dust in the mighty winds of time. For all powers shall crumble before You, all riches, all joys cannot stand unless they are rooted in you. So make it so, my Lord! Make it so that whatever good I might by Your grace bring into this world not pass onto me for my glory, but unto You for Your glory and that it may be rooted forever in You. For I have but one wish, but one desperate prayer: that all I have done may not come to not, that by some miracle, that when they bear up my casket and cover me with the cold Urth from whence I proceeded forth, there may be but one glimmer of light, one tiny candle in the great shadow, which may somehow be attributed to me. And obtain for me also, Lord, that though that candle was lit by my hand, they shall not remember the hand, but the flame and when they see the flame, they shall remember its true origin: You.
