as i lay me down to sleep

With the rivers of your tears, you have made the barren desert fertile. Through sighs of sorrow from deep within you, your labors have borne fruit a hundred-fold.

excerpts from a Greek Orthodox prayer to Saint Prokopios, the Confessor of Decapolis.
I want to allow sorrow deep into my heart that they may shape my life in such a manner that I bear fruit. this prayer reminds me of Nouwen.