Years ago, when my husband and I experienced the tragedy of losing our firstborn daughter–who was stillborn–the Catholic hospital where we she was born gave us an amazing gift: They paused, shortly after her death, to pray this prayer over the loudspeakers of the entire hospital:

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
-Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

This prayer stood out to me so beautifully in the midst of such great sorrow that I’ve wanted to absorb the truth of it into my life ever since.

What I’ve learned is that living it out is a whole lot harder than I ever thought!

The truth is that we all want so badly to be consoled, understood, and loved. And while it sounds noble to set our own needs and wants aside in order to be there for others, we cannot do so in a healthy way unless we are in fact receiving an overflow of God’s love, consolation, and understanding in our own lives.

If my own cup is empty, I have nothing to give. There is only one source of hope, joy, peace, comfort, and love. If we are not connected to that source, we will dry up. He is the Vine that keeps our branches growing. He is the Living Water that pours into our thirsty souls. He is the Bread of Life that feeds our hungry hearts. He is the Giver of every good gift.

I am not denying the truth of St. Francis’ prayer, but there is a missing step of crying out to God in our place of desperation and need that is necessary to living out his prayer.

And in that process of crying out to God, He will empower us to live these beautiful words out. Perhaps the most important line is the final one. Dying involves letting go of getting our needs met from anyone or anything outside of God. So, maybe the missing words are:

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled by my brother or sister as to console
To be understood by my brother or sister as to understand;
To be loved by my brother or sister as to love.

When we can let go of–or die to–the need to receive from our brothers and sisters, wives and husbands, moms and dads, sons and daughters and friends–we make room for God’s love to be poured into us. When we turn away from the world and toward Him with our neediness, I imagine His sheer delight every time this happens. Our God is a God who saves. (Psalm 68:20) This is who He is through and through. He cannot do anything else but respond to that kind of prayer with an outpouring of all that we need and long for. And he might even choose to sometimes use a fellow human to pass that love to us. But be not mistaken: He is the source of that love.

So, here is my exhortation: Let go of your expectations on your fellow human. Place ALL your hope, need, desire, longing onto God. And then step back and watch Him answer that prayer. THEN, you can delight in the ways He answers, and suddenly, your cup is overflowing with offerings for those around you. Fear not: dying is only a path to a more abundant life.