Amy Carmichael

If my attitude be on of fear, not faith, about the one who has disappointed me; if I say __ust what I expected,_ if a fall occurs, then I know nothing of Calvary Love.

There is no house of life out of reach of the stream. So, to be surprised when the rain descends and the foods come, and the winds blow and beat upon the house, as though some strange thing happened unto us, is unreasonable and unjust; it so miscalls our good Master, who never told us to build for fair weather or even to be careful to build out of reach of floods. "We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God" is not a fair-weather word. "My son, if thou comest to serve the Lord, prepare thy soul for temptation." "Ye will not get leave to steal quietly to heaven, in Christ's company, without a conflict and a cross." Even so, even though we must walk in the land of fear, there is no need to fear. The power of His resurrection comes before the fellowship of His sufferings.

You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.

Give me the Love that leads the wayThe Faith that nothing can dismayThe Hope no disappointments tireThe Passion that'll burn like fireLet me not sink to be a clodMake me Thy fuel, Flame of God

to the glory of His name let me witness that in far away lands, in loneliness (deepest sometimes when it seems least so), in times of downheartedness and tiredness and sadness, always always He is near. He does comfort, if we let Him. Perhaps someone as weak and good-for-nothing as even I am may read this. Don't be afraid! Through all circumstances, outside, inside, He can keep me close.

Oh, will you pray? Stop now and pray, lest desire turn to feeling and feeling evaporate.

We have one crystal clear reason apart from the blessed happiness of this way of life. It is this: prayer is the core of our day. Take prayer out, and the day would collapse, would be pithless, a straw blown in the wind. But how can you pray--really pray, I mean--with one against who you have a grudge or whom you have been discussing critically with another? Try it. You will find it cannot be done.

We knew our Father. There was no need for persuasion. Would not His Fatherliness be longing to give us our hearts' desire (if I may put it so)? How could we press Him as though He were not our own most loving Father?

And shall I pray Thee change Thy will, my Father,Until it be according unto mine?But, no, Lord, no, that never shall be, ratherI pray Thee blend my human will with Thine.I pray Thee hush the hurrying, eager longing,I pray Thee soothe the pangs of keen desire__ee in my quiet places, wishes thronging__orbid them, Lord, purge, though it be with fire.

as the needs of all living things must, we have proved that it is a very safe thing to trust in the Lord our God.

I would rather burn out than rust out.

God Hold us to that which drew us first, when the Cross was the attraction, and we wanted nothing else.

He hath never failed thee yet.Never will His love forget.O fret not thyself nor letThy heart be troubled,Neither let it be afraid.

Bare heights of loneliness...a wilderness whose burning winds sweep over glowing sands, what are they to HIM? Even there He can refresh us, even there He can renew us.

Do not fight the thing in detail: turn from it. Look ONLY at your Lord. Sing. Read. Work.

There is nothing dreary or doubtful about (the life). It is meant to be continually joyful...We are called to a settled happiness in the Lord whose joy is our strength.

To me there is no more tragic sight than the average missionary. _We have given so much, yet not the one thing that counts; we aspire so high, and fall so low; we suffer so much, but so seldom with Christ; we have done so much and so little will remain; we have known Christ in part, and have so effectively barricaded our hearts against His mighty love, which surely He must yearn to give His disciples above all people.

One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. ("He shall sit as a refiner"; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, "then the fire eats it," and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; "it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now." "How do you know when the gold is purified?" we asked him, and he answered, "When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure.