More Poems by Amy Carmichael
Lord, give me love like this
Many crowd the Savior's Kingdom,
Few receive His Cross,
Many seek His consolation,
Few will suffer loss
For the dear sake of the Master,
Counting all but dross.
Many sit at Jesus' table,
Few will fast with Him
When the sorrow-cup of anguish
Trembles to the brim.
Few watch with Him in the garden
Who have sung the hymn.
Many will confess His wisdom.
Few embrace his shame,
Many, should He smile upon them,
Will His praise proclaim;
Then, if for a while He leave them,
They desert his Name.
But the souls who love Him truly
In woe or in sweet bliss,
These will count their truest heart's blood
Not their own, but His;
Savior, Thou Who thus hast loved me,
Give me love like this.
Missionary to India who suffered much -- and bore much eternal fruit.
Back in the 1920s, Amy rescued hundreds of orphaned children -- especially little girls that would be dedicated to Hindu gods for use in sexual temple rituals. By God's wonderful grace, some had miraculously escaped from such pagan slavery and were led to the Irish "mother" who lovingly cared for each child God sent her.
In 1931 she prayed, “God, please do with me whatever you want. Do anything that will help me to serve you better.”
That same day, she fell, suffering fractures that would cripple her for the rest of her life.
Not one to be discouraged or bitter when faced with pain or persecution, Amy now had the opportunity to demonstrate God's faithfulness before a much larger "host" of witnesses. While her growing children had continual freedom to enter her bedroom and share their hearts with their beloved "mother," she now had the quiet times that allowed her to write books, poems, and letters that were translated and shared around the world. "Great is Thy faithfulness," O Lord!
"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross..." Hebrews 12:1-2
Other poems by Amy Carmichael
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