I give You thanks, for You have not spared my sins, but have worn me down with bitter stripes, inflicting sorrows and sending afflictions upon me within and without. There is none else under Heaven who can comfort me, but You only, O Lord my God, the heavenly Physician of souls, who strikes and heals, who brings down to Hell and back again.† Your discipline is over me, and Your rod will instruct me.
Behold, O beloved Father, I am in Your hands; under the rod of Your correction I bow myself! Strike my back and my neck, that I may bend my crookedness to Your will. Make me a dutiful and humble disciple, as You are wont to do, that I may walk at Your every nod. To You I commend myself, and all that is mine, to be corrected. It is better to be punished here than hereafter.
You know all things in general, and in particular, and there is nothing hidden from You in man's conscience. Before things are done, you know that they will come to pass; and You have no need that any should teach or admonish You of what is going on here on the earth. You know what is expedient for my profit, and how greatly tribulation serves to scour off the rust of sins. Do with me, according to Your desired good pleasure, and
