The Saint Francis prayer was written long ago.
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; 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; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.
Truly, the part that says dying is mysterious. Often, I do not agree with that statement. But I have to admit that it is the only way I can be truly happy.
The part that says “grant that I may not so much seek … to be loved as to love,” applies to me specifically. I want to be more loved. But I do not desire to love. It is the logical opposite.
I find that when I pray this part of the prayer that I actually become more happy. In a way I have shed a slavery to my own selfish attitude. I have taken off something that looks ugly. I have become more free. Yet, I find that I am not loved or respected by a certain human. I find that I might be respected by humans from whom I never expected respect and love. I feel as if the Lord has sent me on a mission to others of whom I do not know and by whom never knew me.