On this, the occasion of my death, I have need of
nothing. I am content with my life. First responders do not think of themselves,
but of those they serve – be they dressed in policemen’s blues, or firefighters’
turnout gear, or religious habit. I do
not pray for myself, but for those who are dying and those who will die.
Most High, all powerful, good Lord, all praise is yours, all
glory, all honor and blessing, even here, even now in these towers of
death. No mortal lips may pronounce your
name, but to whom else could we call out, surrounded as we are on all sides by
terror and by fear? All praise is yours,
my Lord, though your creatures have gone insane.
“Jesus, please end this now.
God, please end this now.”
It is dark in here, I cannot see. Brother Sun, who shone so brightly only a few
hours ago has been obliterated, his beautiful splendor blotted out. Brothers Wind and Air have not brought
sustaining rains – but cruel and violent storms. Brother Fire has turned his mighty strength
against my brothers, against us all. And
Sister Death, O Lord, whose embrace none of us can escape, has welcomed too
many into her arms this morning. Enough.
Stay your hand. Enough.
“Jesus, please end this now.
God, please end this now.”
Deliver, Lord, the soul of Thy servants from all danger of
Hell, from all pain and tribulation.
Deliver us from the common death of the world. Deliver us from violence inflicted upon us
and inflicted by us.
“Jesus, please end this now.
God, please end this now.”
Happy are those Sister Death finds doing your will, O Lord,
even as fires rage and towers collapse. Give us peace, O Lord, especially as
the fires are burning and towers are falling.
Give us peace when the nations are raging. Happy are those who endure in peace. Crown us, oh Lord, with peace, now and in the
hour of our death.
This piece, written for my English Comp. class, was inspired
by Father Mychal Judge
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