The wounds have scarred my body, but there is no stench so that I may yet seek healing. I hide the wounds of the arrows from people and I cannot bear the doctor removing them. He has prescribed ointments for my wounds but I am not sufficiently strong-hearted to endure their astringency.
The doctor is good. He seeks no compensation from me, but my reluctance prevents me from visiting him. When he comes to me in order to heal me, he finds me eating those things that worsen my wounds. He implores me to stop immediately, but the pleasures of their taste deceive my heart. After I have finished eating, I feel remorseful, but my remorse is not sincere. When he sends me food, saying, “Eat in order that you may be healed,” my bad habit does not allow me to accept it. In the final analysis, I do not know what I will do.
Therefore, weep with me, all my brothers who know me, in order that assistance beyond my strength may come to me and dominate me, that I may become his worthy servant, for his is the power, to the ages of ages. Amen.
[Abba Isaiah of Scetis – Discourse 14]