Category: Carmichael, Amy

“God make us all His Jonathans.”

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

I thought, over the next few days, I would share some meditations by Amy Carmichael.  Today’s focusses on those times when we can feel “hunted” and alone–or when a friend feels hunted and alone and how we can strengthen their hands.

1 Sam 23.16 And Jonathan, Saul’s son, arose, and went to David into the wood, and strengthened his hand in God.

God make us all His Jonathans.  There is a great hunter abroad in the world.  Like Saul who sought David every day, he seeks souls every day, never a day’s respite, always the hunt is on.  Although the words stand forever, “but God did not give him into his hands” [v. 14], yet sometimes souls tire of being hunted, and like David they are in a wilderness in a wood.  Then is Jonathan’s chance.  But notice what he does, he does not so comfort David that he becomes necessary to him.  “He strengthened his hand in God.”  He leaves his friend strong in God, resting in God, safe in God.  he detaches his dear David from himself and he attaches him to his “Very Present Help” [see Psalm 46.1].  Then Jonathan went to his house, and David abode in the wood–with God.

May God help us each to be Jonathans for each of the people in our lives.

“She is burning still.”

Sr. Dorcee, beloved2 Comments

One of the things I love about the Advent season (and Christmas, for that matter) are all the candles and lights.  They are a sign of hope for me–the candles in the windows bringing a light into the darkness of this time of year–like the wise virgins keeping their lamps burning bright for the coming of the Bridegroom. 

I love this reading from Amy Carmichael.  It’s the reading for today, December 17, which also happens to be my birthday.  I share this only because its occurrence on this day reminds me that the Lord, from all time, knew today would be my birthday and that I would be reading this.  It also has significance for me because the passage she refers to from Lk 7.23 is one of those passages that have shaped my spiritual life–a word spoken by Jesus to John the Baptist when he was in prison: “Blessed is he (she) who takes no offense at me.”  But that’s a sharing for another time  . . . 

“She hath neither rusted out, nor burned out.  She is burning still.”  I read that in an Australian magazine and I prayed that it might be true of each one of us.  We want most earnestly not to rust out, we would gladly be burned out, but till that day comes, the Lord keep us “burning still.” 
     Perhaps some of us are sorely tempted to think that just now there is not much that is “burning” about our lives.  Some are ill, some have duties of a very simple sort–where does the burning come in?  Where did it come in when John the Baptist was shut up in prison?  He could not do anything but just endure, and not be offended, and not doubt his Lord’s love.  But when our Lord Jesus spoke of him, He said he was burning and shining–“a burning and a shining light”. [John 5.35]
     It is not the place where we are, or the work that we can or cannot do, that matters, it is something else.  It is the fire within that burns and shines, whatever our circumstances.   (Edges of His Ways, pp. 182-3)

Till that day comes, the Lord keep us all “burning still”.

In time of need

Sr. Dorcee, beloved2 Comments

Yesterday was the funeral for my aunt and the reason for my not posting.  Today, of course, I am a bit weary.  The funeral went well, but now, in addition to what I call the “mother-wound” I carry in my heart because of the loss of my own mother, I now have an “aunt-wound” because of the loss of my “other mother”.   This morning when I prayed, I picked up a collection of Amy Carmichael’s writings called Thou Givest . . . They Gather and read this:

“I cannot get the way of Christ’s love.  Had I known what He was keeping for me, I should never have been so faint-hearted”, Samuel Rutherford wrote long ago.  Have we not often had cause to say so too?  But if for a season we are in heaviness, if the morning after a night of pain, or prayer, or fierce fight of temptation, or any other weariness, finds us arid as a burnt-up bit of land, there is a perfect word waiting to hearten us: Grace to help in time of need–in time of need–that is the word.  Often and often I have drunk of that living water very thirstily.  Blessed be God for this brook in the way.  “For we have not a high priest that cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but One that has been in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.  Let us therefore draw near with boldness to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy, and may find grace to help in time of need.” (Heb 4.15-16)

Now, I must honestly confess that I sometimes have mixed reactions to reading something like this.  This is what I begin to think: “But will I really feel refreshed after I pray?  Many a time I have continued on arid after coming to Him.”  (I call to mind that time I spoke of earlier when I cried out, “Lord, have you forgotten me?”)  But even as I thought that this morning, I felt the Holy Spirit prompting me: “But can you not trust that if that is the case, that the Father, in His love, has a greater purpose in allowing it?”  And, you know, I cannot but answer yes to that because I know “in my knower”–as they say–that all that the Father does, He does in love.  If I continue on in weariness and grief and aridity, He must have a greater purpose in it all.  And I thank Him for reminding me of that.

New every morning

Sr. Dorcee, beloved1 Comment

Some mornings it’s just hard.  It’s hard to get up.  It’s hard to pray.  It’s hard to face another day of living for others rather than yourself.   That’s where my thinking was going this morning.  So I did as I usually do when I wake up early, I reached for my Amy Carmichael devotional, Edges of His Ways.  (One of the main reasons I like to read her is because she always draws me deeper into Scripture.  I don’t end up with reading just some nice words, but I end up reading God’s word.)  Today’s entry is entitled “Ps 22.  Title LXX [in the Septuagint] Concerning the Morning Aid”  Well, that obviously struck home.   I stopped reading and grabbed my RSV.  The RSV reads “According to the Hind of the Dawn.”  So I then pulled out my Kidner commentary, in which he said that indeed the more faithful translation according to the Greek is “On the help at daybreak”.   Psalm 22, as you know–and as Amy reminds us–makes us think of the darkness and suffering of Calvary.  I’ll let you read the rest of what she wrote, and may you experience it as I did this morning, as the prophet writes in the Book of Lamentations: “His mercies are new every morning.” 

When we think of Psalm 22, we think most of the darkness and suffering of Calvary.  We know that it was in our Savior’s mind through those most awful hours; He quoted the first verse, He fulfilled all the verses.  Even though there is a burst of triumphant joy in that psalm of pain, it is chiefly the pain that comes to mind when we think of it.  But its title is not about pain, it is a word of beautiful joy: Concerning the Morning Aid. As I pondered this, my thoughts were led on to a familiar New Testament story: “It was now dark and Jesus was not come to them . . . They see Jesus walking on the sea”.  Looking back on that night the most vivid memory must have been, not the darkness or the weariness, not the great wind and the rough sea, but the blessed Morning Aid that came before the morning.
     So let us not make too much of the storm of the night.  “Even the darkness is not dark to Thee” [Ps 139.12]; “And He saw that they were distressed in rowing” [Mk 6.48].  The wind was contrary unto them then, perhaps it is contrary to us now.  But just when things were hardest in that tiredest of all times (between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m.), just then, He came.
      “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you” [Jn 14.18], He said, and He does come.  He always will come.  “His coming is as certain as the morning” [Hosea 6.3].  His Morning Aid comes before the morning.  If we do not see Him coming, even so, He is on His way to us.  More truly, He is with us.  “I am with you all the days, and all the day long” [Mt 28.20 Moule].

As I say in my sidebar, I started this blog to share things that have increased my hope during challenging times–those challenging times are not just in the past, but also in my present.  My prayer is that you, especially any of you who are so aware of your need for Him this morning, may know His help at daybreak, and to know that He is coming, and is indeed already with you.

Why set aside time to pray?

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In one of her meditations Amy Carmichael answers this question: “There is so much to do.  Why set aside so much time just to pray?”   This is a question we all deal with.  We can have so many demands on our time, some very urgent.  Sometimes we find ourselves not praying because we have so much to do.  Amy’s answer gives pause for thought, and remember this comes from a woman who was a “mother” to many orphans–not exactly a woman with time on her hands:

The certain knowledge that the suggestion that prayer is waste of time is Satan’s lie; he is much more afraid of our prayer than of our work.  (This is proved by the immense difficulties we always find when we set ourselves to pray.  They are much greater than those we meet when we set ourselves to work.)

Another little prayer

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

Continuing on from yesterday:

Ps 119.173: Let Your hand help me.

This little prayer has often been mine.  These short Bible prayers are just what we want in days when we are tired or hard-pressed, so I pass this one on for those who need it.  You will find it enough.  It is like the touch on the electric light switch–just a touch, and the power comes flowing from the power-house–the power that turns to light.   (Amy Carmichael, Edges of His Ways, p. 149)

Little prayers

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

This is one of those mornings: Oh Lord, what am I going to post today?  The CTK Women’s Weekend was very good–I love being with all those women–but, being the introvert that I am, it takes a toll on me, and so I’m tired today.  Soooo I’m going to pull Amy Carmichael out of my bag, so to speak.  This piece is a great one on “Little prayers”:

Sometimes we are very much disappointed with ourselves because we cannot pray proper prayers, only little ones that hardly seem to be prayers at all.  I have been finding much comfort in the little prayers of the Gospels.   They could not be more little.
     There was Peter’s, “Lord save me” [Mt 14.30], and the poor mother’s [Mt 15.25], “Lord, help me”; and sometimes even less, no prayer at all but only the briefest telling of the trouble, “My servant lies at home sick” [Mt 8.6]; and less than that, a thought, and a touch. “She said within herself if I may but touch . . . ” [Mt 9.21].
     Again we hear of just  feeling. “They were troubled” [Mt 14.26], and a cry, “They cried out in fear”–that was all, but it was enough. 
     Often in the throng of the day’s work and warfare, there will not be time for more than a very little prayer–a thought, a touch, a feeling, a cry–but it is enough; so tender, so near, is the love of our Lord.  (Amy Carmichael, Edges of His Ways, p. 149)

“For we are the aroma of Christ to God . . .”

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

2 Cor 2.15 For we are the aroma of Christ to God . . .

Literally, “Christ’s fragrance am I, unto God.” (Conybeare)  Paul is speaking of the fragrance of the incense carried in the Triumph of a Roman Emperor, to illustrate God’s triumph over His enemies.  We are as captives following in Christ’s triumphal procession, yet at the same time His incense-bearers, those who are unto God a sweet savour of Christ.
     Whatever we have to offer owes everything to that which causes it to be (without Me you can do nothing); yet God counts it as something.  he even thinks of us as fragrance; ” Christ’s fragrance am I, unto God.”  I think it is very wonderful.

                                                         ~Amy Carmichael (Edges of His Ways, p. 135)

When the doors were shut

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

Have you ever been in a funk–one of those times when you’ve been walking along fine, experiencing great hope in the Lord about something, but all of a sudden that hope just disappears?  (Rhetorical question) Your thoughts just swirl around you.  You’re not able to concentrate on the truth.  Your thinking at the moment is not helpful, to say the least?

  

Christ Appears to the Apostles Behind Closed Doors (Duccio)
Christ Appears to the Apostles Behind Closed Doors (Duccio)

   Often our thoughts are like a crowd of people talking together in a room whose doors are shut, and because of the setting of some hope that had a bright sunrise, it is a sorrowful time.
     There may be love, understanding love, all around us, and yet we may be needing some word of life in our own soul, something that would do what only the Divine can do.  “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6.68).
     One day lately, when feeling like this, I took my New Testament, and it opened of itself at John 20, and the first words I read were these: “The same day at evening . . . when the doors were shut . . . Jesus came and stood in their midst, and said . . . Peace be with you.  And when He had said this, he showed them His hands and His side.”  It is all there–the shut doors (for we cannot say aloud all that fills our mind), the dreary evening, then the risen Lord, and peace.   (Amy Carmichael, Edges of His Ways, pp. 131-2)

My prayer for you today is that the Lord may enter through any of your shut doors . . .

Little words (5) “But if not . . .”

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Three little words today: “But if not . . .”  And once again, it was Amy Carmichael who brought these to my attention.  The context is Daniel 3:16-18.  The three young men are threatened with the fiery furnace if they will not bow down the false god.  Nebuchadnezzar asks them: If I do this, who will snatch you from my hands? Their reply is: “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter.  If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace; and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image which you have set up.”

Amy refers to this passage in this selection from her book, Thou Givest . . . They Gather:

Some years ago we were caught in the turmoil of Law Court trouble [Note: Amy rescued Indian children from temple prostitution]; it lasted for many months, and utterly exhausted those of us who were submerged in it.  During that time a friend came for a visit, and his (as it seemed to me) light faith was a trial, not a help.  Of course, we should win, he said–“Power over all the power of the enemy”–was not that our Lord’s own word?  What need for anxiety?  Everything would be all right.  I remember thanking God for the Psalms with their cries of depth.  This shallow sureness got me nowhere.  I could not forget “But if not . . .”

I do not think we should ever forget that “must” of our Lord Jesus, spoken just after the shining word about His coming: “So shall also the Son of Man be in His day.  but first He must suffer many things” (Lk 17.24-5).  They followed a suffering Savior, the warrior souls and heroes of faith all down the ages . . ..

Of course, this brings to mind that powerful eleventh chapter in Hebrews wherein is recounted all those who “by faith” “did not receive what was promised, since God had foreseen something better for us, that apart form us they should not be made perfect.”

May God give us the grace to be able always to say: “But if not . . .”