We thank God for the day.  We ask God to give us a good night’s rest.  We pray for our church and our
school and our relatives.  We thank God for successes at school, and we thank him for a good soccer
practice.  Often we more or less chronicle the events of the day.  I pray first.  She prays second.

About 10 days ago my blue-eyed, extroverted daughter had watched a television special on the safe return
of Elizabeth Smart to her home. The Utah girl is about the same age as my daughter, a fact she noted.
When my daughter heard the charges brought against the Utah couple who kidnapped Smart last summer,
her brow furrowed.

What had happened to Elizabeth Smart was not lost on my daughter.  As we prayed that night, my daughter
asked God to keep our home safe.

A few nights later my daughter wondered aloud how it would feel to be a teen-age girl in Baghdad and how
terrified girls her age would feel when their home shook with explosions in the early hours of the morning.

“Does this war scare you, daddy?” she asked.

“Honey, daddy hates war,” I said.  “Yes, it scares me a lot, and it makes me feel very sad.  Baby, I want
you to remember that God is the Creator and sustainer of this universe.  Even though life is not fair and there
is so much pain in the world, God is the one who maintains our lives day by day.  He never will leave us.”

“I know, daddy,” she said, patting my face reassuringly.  Nothing else was said.  I stood up, and said, “I
love you.  Good night.”

The next morning I woke up at 5 am.  Bombs were falling in Baghdad, the voice on the radio blared.  The
news also said the bond for Elizabeth Smart’s captors had been set for $10 million.  I sat in my office chair
that morning, let out a big breath, and said, “Lord, what do you want me to prayer this morning?”

Without another thought these words came to me and I prayed them out loud:

“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 pardoned.

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

That well-known prayer is called “The Peace Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi.”  Many people say that while
the beautiful prayer embodies the spirit of St. Francis’ simplicity and poverty, it likely is not one of his
writings.  Some believe the prayer first appeared during the First World War, found written on a card
bearing the image of St. Francis.

Whoever the author, the prayer has brought me comfort and hope in the last few days.  The words in the
prayer remind me of the words Jesus Christ gave his followers before his death.  “I am leaving you with a
gift – peace of mind and heart.  And the peace I give isn’t like the peace the world gives.  So don’t be
troubled or afraid.”  (John 14:27)

The Bible promises that the one who rescued us from the kingdom of darkness will bring us, even as bombs fall and children are kidnapped, more fully into the kingdom of his dear son.  We have assurance that the peace of the risen Lord, which transcends human understanding, will touch hearts throughout the world in ways that a bombing campaign of shock and awe never will.

Don Follis is an Urbana pastor and member of Vineyard Christian Fellowship in Urbana, Ill.  His column
appears on Fridays.  Copyright © 2003 by the Champaign-Urbana News-Gazette.