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Of Comfort for the Desolate.
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I have learned also hereby to dread Thine unsearchable judgments, who afflictest the just with the wicked, though not without equity.

5. I give Thee thanks, for that Thou hast not spared my sins, but hast worn me down with bitter stripes, inflicting sorrows and sending anxieties upon me within and without.

There is none else under heaven who can comfort me, but Thou only, O Lord my God, the heavenly physician of souls, Who woundest and healest, Who bringest down to hell and bringest back again.

Thy discipline over me, and Thy rod itself shall instruct me.

6. Behold, O beloved Father, I am in Thy hands, I bow myself under the rod of Thy correction.

Strike my back and my neck, that my crookedness may be conformed to Thy will.

Make me a dutiful and humble disciple of Thine, that I may be ready at every beck of Thy pleasure.

Unto Thee I commend myself and all mine to be corrected: better it is to be punished here than hereafter.

Thou knowest everything, and there is nothing in the conscience of man which can be hidden from Thee.

Before any thing is done, Thou knowest that it will come to pass, and hast no need that any should teach Thee, or inform Thee of those things which are being done on the earth.

Thou knowest what is expedient for my spiritual progress, and how greatly tribulation serves to scour off the rust of sins.

Do with me according to Thy good pleasure, and