The Irish Catholic Hermit

A prayer of our holy father St. Isaac the Syrian L ord Jesus Christ, my God: Thou didst weep for Lazarus and shed tears of sorrow and compassion for him. Accept my bitter tears also. H eal my passions through the suffering of Thine holy Passion. Heal the wounds of my soul through the wounds which Thou didst suffer. C leanse my blood with Thine holy blood and unite my body with the fragrance of Thy life-giving body. May the gall which Thou wast given to drink by Thine enemies sweeten my soul from the bitterness that the devil has given me to taste. M ay Thy most-holy body that was stretched upon the Cross elevate my mind, which has been lowered unto the earth by the demons. M ay Thy most-holy head, which Thou didst bow upon the Cross raise my head, which has been humiliated by the opposing demonic powers. M ay Thy most-holy hands which were nailed to the Cross by the transgressors raise me to Thee from the depth of destruction, just as Thy most-holy mouth hast promised. M ay Thy face w

O how uncaring I am.  H ow rude, how worldly my soul has become.  O corrupt heart, O lips full of gall, O throat which is an open sepulcher.  O soul, why do you forget that your end inescapably draws near?  W hy do you not ready yourself for this voyage?  W hy do you, with no pity for yourself, go after destruction?  W hy do you bring everlasting torment on yourself?  O soul, what are you doing, that you live as a senseless creature?  W oe to me, who have chosen darkness rather than light.  H ow I would rather have that pleasure today, but which tomorrow vanishes, rather than everlasting and unspeakable bliss.  W oe to me who consents to be robed in a dark and dismal cloak instead of a garment radiant as the sun.  H ow I would rather the wretched abodes of Hell instead of the kingdom of heaven.  W oe to me, a sinner. I willingly and knowingly throw myself into complete destruction.  O my soul, at last come to a sound mind.  B e afraid of God and courageously travel on the road of H