One More Poem

Weekend before last, a friend shared a poem with all of us at the Richland Harvest Party. Along with it, he gave us several Scriptures, including Philippians 3:8: "Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord; for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but refuse, that I may win Christ."

Considering all that's going on in the world, and considering my purpose (being a Christian, a wife, a mom), I have to ask myself if my attitude is like the apostle Paul's or Amy Carmicheal's.

(Apologies - this poem is written in three verses, but the server keeps squishing them together!)

MAKE ME THY FUEL

From prayer that asks that I may be

Sheltered from winds that blew on Thee,

From fearing when I should aspire,

From faltering when I should climb higher,

From silken self, O Captain, free

Thy soldier who would follow Thee.

From subtle love of softening things,

From easy choices, weakenings,

Not thus are spirits fortified,

Not this way went the Crucified,

From all that dims Thy Calvary,

O Lamb of God, deliver me.

Give me the love that leads the way,

The faith that nothing can dismay,

The hope no disappointments tire,

The passion that will burn like fire,

Let me not sink to be a clod:

Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.

Amy Carmichael