You once received me in weakness, not turning your faces away. Where is the joy that welcomed the message? How did the blessing change? You would have given your eyes in those days. Have I become enemy speaking the truth? Others court loudly to shut you outside, so your zeal will return and belong to their rule. Until Christ be formed in you, I labor again with a parent's ache. Not my face, not another teacher's name— let the life of Jesus take shape. Zeal can be good when the purpose is good. Love does not flatter to fasten a chain. I wish I were present to soften my voice; distance has sharpened the edge of my pain. Until Christ be formed in you, truth will not leave though affection is strained. Little children, the prayer has one center: let the life of Jesus take shape.