O Jesus, You offer me a cup so bitter that my feeble nature cannot bear it.
But I do not want to draw back my lips from the cup Your hand has prepared....You teach me the secret of suffering in peace. The word peace does not mean joy, at least not felt jot; to suffer in peace, it is enough to will whatever You will. To be Your spouse, Jesus, one must be like You, and You are all bloody, crowned with thorns! How consoling it is to remember that You shuddered at the sight of the bitter sup, the cup that earlier You had so ardently desired to drink. (from Therese of Lisieux "general correspondence")
But I do not want to draw back my lips from the cup Your hand has prepared....You teach me the secret of suffering in peace. The word peace does not mean joy, at least not felt jot; to suffer in peace, it is enough to will whatever You will. To be Your spouse, Jesus, one must be like You, and You are all bloody, crowned with thorns! How consoling it is to remember that You shuddered at the sight of the bitter sup, the cup that earlier You had so ardently desired to drink. (from Therese of Lisieux "general correspondence")
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