Category: Carmichael, Amy

“God never wastes His children’s pain.”

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

For those of you who seem to be suffering fruitless pain, a word from Amy Carmichael:

But to what end is pain?  I do not clearly know.  But I have noticed that when one who has not suffered draws near to one in pain there is rarely much power to help; there is not the understanding that leaves the suffering thing comforted, though perhaps not a word was spoken; and I have wondered if it can be the same in the sphere of prayer.  Does pain accepted and endured give some quality that would otherwise be lacking in prayer?  Does it create that sympathy which can lay itself alongside the need, feeling it as though it were personal, so that it is possible to do just what the writer of Hebrews meant when he said, “Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body“?

. . . What if every stroke of pain, or hour of weariness, or ay other trial of flesh or spirit, could carry us a pulse-beat nearer some other life, some life for which the ministry of prayer is needed, would it not be worth while to suffer?  Ten thousand times yes.  And surely it must be so, for the further we are drawn into the fellowship of Calvary with our dear Lord, the tenderer are we toward others, the closer alongside do our spirits lie with them that are in bonds; as being ourselves also in the body.  God never wastes His children’s pain.  (Rose from Brier, p. 124)

Interruptions

Sr. Dorcee, beloved1 Comment

A day or two ago one who was with me prayed like this, “Lord, help me to welcome interruptions, especially when the interruption seems less important than the work I am trying to do.”  That prayer has often been mine.  I expect many of you have felt the need of the loving grace of the Lord to help you to welcome interruptions, especially when they do not seem to matter nearly so much as what we are doing at the moment.  Thinking of this, I found myself this early morning in Lk. 9.11.  The people followed our Lord Jesus (He had wanted to be alone with His disciples just then), and He welcomed them.

It is so easy to be too preoccupied to be welcoming.  May the love of our Lord Jesus, for whose sake and in whose service we are here, so overflow from us that it will be natural for us to do as He would and be welcoming.

(Amy Carmichael, Thou Givest . . . They Gather, p. 94)

Fight against those who fight against me

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A little encouragement from Amy Carmichael this morning:

Ps 35.1 Fight against those who fight against me.
Ps 35.3 (Kay) Be a barrier against my pursuers.

What are the things that fight against me?  Let us not lose the comfort and power that is in this word for us by relating the prayer to the larger things only, it touches the smallest.  The wave that sweeps over the great rock, is the same that sweeps over the tiny shell on the shore.  It is the little things of life, the minute unimportant-looking things, that are most likely to shatter our peace; because they are so small that we are very likely to fight them ourselves, instead of looking up at once to our Strong God, our Barrier between us and them.  “Close the gate, or bar up the way:–as the cloudy pillar formed a barricade between the Egyptians and Israel” is Kay’s note.

Fight against those who fight against me–the feelings, the little foolish feelings that want to keep us back from saying to the blessed Will of God “I am content to do it” [Ps 40.10], fight Thou against them, O God; “and my soul shall be joyful in the Lord: it shall rejoice in His salvation . . . Lord, Who is like unto Thee, Who deliverest the poor from him that is too strong for him?” [Ps 35.9, 10]

What a joyful life ours is, continually proving His tenderness in the very little things.  There is nothing too small for Him to help.  He is indeed a Barrier between us and our pursuers.  How precious is His lovingkindness. [Ps 36.7]  Now for a day of joy!

To one in trouble

Sr. Dorcee, beloved1 Comment

Life is busy; it’s still too hot for me; I’m not sleeping well; my internet connection is spotty; I’m “leaving town” for a week and a half and have a lot to do before and afterwards; and I have no inspiration. I don’t mean to complain, just to explain. This meditation from Amy Carmichael is for me–but you can read it as well.

I want to give you a word that helped me all yesterday and will help me today.  It is the ‘through’ of Psalm 84.6 [“Passing through the valley of Weeping they make it a place of springs”] and of Isaiah 43.2 [“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overcome you”] taken with Song of Songs 8.5 [“Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?”].

We are never staying in the valley or the rough waters; we are always only passing through them, just as the bride in the Song of Songs is seen coming up from the wilderness leaning upon her Beloved.

So whatever the valley is, or however rough the waters are, we won’t fear.  Leaning upon our Beloved we shall come up from the wilderness and, as Psalm 84.6 says, even use the valley as a well, make it a well.  We shall find the living waters there and drink of them. (Candles in the Dark, p. 78)

As I said, I’m “out of town” for the next while. Dip into some old posts. There is still some good stuff there! (Just click on “Amy Carmichael” under “Categories”–that will keep you going for awhile!)

A great word for us all

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A selection from Amy Carmichael about hope, about continuing to hope when things are turning out the way we expect:

Rom 15.13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

This is a great word for us all.  We need to be continually renewed in hope because, although there are always happy things happening, the devil does not forget us.  Every now and then we are sharply reminded that he is either a roaring lion, walking about among us, seeking whom he may devour; or he is a serpent, the kind that does not shrink away when he hears us coming, but is quite ready to attack and shoot venom at us, as some snakes are said to do so.  I often thank God that He is a God of hope.

It is also a great word for all who love enough to suffer when those who were trusted have disappointed us.  Paul wrote it in one of his earlier letters.  About thirteen years later he wrote his last letter.  The space between those two letters was filled with experiences of joy and sorrow, most of which are unrecorded.  Among these is a story which comes very close to all of us who have had much to do with souls.

We know Paul loved and trusted his children in the faith who had become his fellow-workers.  Twice we find one of these mentioned in the loving list of names at the end of two of his letters [cf. Col. 4.14; Philem. 24].  Then there is silence.  What pangs, what strivings, what prayers, filled that silent space?  We are told nothing of them, but our hearts tell us what his heart went through before he wrote of that same one in his last letter, “Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me” [2 Tim 4.10].

And yet–and it this that comes close to us–there is no weakening in that last letter, no discouragement, no whisper of loss of faith in others, no fear.  “For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind . . . . I know whom I have believed, the God, not of despondency, but of hope” [2 Tim 1.7, 12].

But if not

Sr. Dorcee, belovedLeave a comment

Facing another day of high heat today made me think of the three young men in the fiery furnace.  Now that you’re smiling, I actually did meditate on that passage from Daniel today.  The attitude of those men in the midst of a life-threatening situation–much more serious than this heat crisis :-)– is amazing.  I just want to share a few thoughts:

  1. When Nebuchadnezzar announces that he will throw them into the fiery furnace if they do not worship his gods, they respond: “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.” (Daniel 3.17-18 emphasis added)  Amy Carmichael did a little meditation on these verses, highlighting the “but if not.”  If things do not turn out the way we prefer, will we keep abandoning ourselves to Him, trusting wholeheartedly in His love?
  2. This verse really struck home: And they walked about in the midst of the flames, singing hymns to God and blessing the Lord. This verse always makes me think of Isaiah 43.2b: When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. No grumbling allowed for me when it’s hot, hot, hot.  Only singing hymns and blessing the Lord.  (If you’re like me, it’s easier to handle the big “heats” in life than the small ones. . .)
  3. And most importantly, a fourth man was seen walking in the midst of the fire with the three.  Jesus is always with us in the midst of our own fires.

So bless the Lord, O my soul . . .  He saves us from the eternal fire, which is the most important.

It is not Death to Die

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As I mentioned a couple of days ago, I am reading a new biography of Hudson Taylor, one of my two all-time favorite protestant missionaries.  Hudson was a missionary to China in the late 19th century.  It isn’t my favorite biography of him, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the title: It is not Death to Die.  That line is a quote from Pilgrim’s Progress.  When, at the end of Valiant’s life, he crosses over to the Father’s House, “all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.  IT IS NOT DEATH TO DIE.” We’ve had a lot of deaths affect us in our house in the last six months: residents at our Emmanuel Houses, the death of a very good friend, a sister of one of our Sisters, the mother of another one.  We have been staring death in the face constantly these days.  The title of the Taylor biography is a good reminder of the truth, that in Christ, death is really only apparent.  It is not death to die.

And that reminded me of the title of a biography of my other favorite protestant missionary, Amy Carmichael.  Elisabeth Elliot write a life of her named A Chance to Die. In the preface to her book, Elisabeth writes about the debt she owes to Amy Carmichael–I feel a similar debt–how she “met” her at age fourteen by reading her books. From her preface:

The first of her books that I read was, I think, If, which became her best-seller.  It was not written for teenagers, but for seasoned Christians with the solemn charge of caring for the souls of others.  It was from the pages of this thin blue book that I, a teenager, began to understand the great message of the Cross, of what the author called “Calvary love.”  I saw the chance to die, to be crucified with Christ was not a morbid thing, but the very gateway to Life.  I was drawn–slowly, fitfully (my response was fitful, but inexorably.  (emphasis added)

I pray to be drawn even more inexorably into this frame of mind, looking for those chances to die to self, confidently knowing that it is not death to die.

I trust

Sr. Dorcee, beloved1 Comment

A thought from Amy Carmichael on trusting that God loves us:

1 John 4.16 (Rotherham) We have come to understand and to trust the love which God hath in us.

I have been thinking much of this translation.  We can never fully understand that love, but we can begin to understand it even here and now, and as we understand, we trust.  This means that we trust all that the love of God does; all He gives, and all He does not give; all He says, and all He does not say.  To it all we say, by His loving enabling, I trust.  Let us be content with the Lord’s will, and tell Him so, and not disappoint Him by wishing for anything He does not give.  The more we understand His love, the more we trust.  (Edges of His Ways, p. 145)

The voice of Pharaoh

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Following on yesterday’s post (and Tesa’s excellent comment!), I thought I would share another reflection by Amy Carmichael on the same topic: listening–or rather the importance of not listening–to the voice of the Enemy.

Exodus 14.3  Pharaoh will say . . . They are entangled in the land; the wilderness has shut them in.

Sometimes when problems come up and we see no way through, or when souls we love seem entangled, we are tempted to think of what Pharaoh will say.  There can be no entanglement, the wilderness cannot possibly shut in anyone whom God is leading Home.  It has been said, “What we see as problems, God sees as solutions”; and what we have to do through the age-long minute* before we see is to wait in peace and refuse to be hustled.  “Fear not, stand still,” and sooner or later, you shall “see the salvation of the Lord” (v. 13).  There will be no entanglement.

And is it not comforting that the Lord Jesus knows beforehand what Pharaoh will say? So we need not pay the slightest attention to him, even if he does make discouraging remarks.  The last word is never with Pharaoh.  What is he but a “noise” (Jer 46.17)?  So let us trust and not be afraid.

(Edges of His Ways, p. 40)

*Amy is referring here to the “age-long minute” between when the storm on the sea began for the disciples and when Jesus came to them walking on the water and calmed the sea.

What others say about us

Sr. Dorcee, beloved2 Comments

Have you ever found yourself getting down or discouraged because of what someone else has said or even because of what you yourself are saying inside your own head?  Here’s a little perspective from Amy Carmichael:

Ps 3.2 Many are saying of me, there is no help from God.

Have you ever been discouraged and distressed because of something people said, or the voices inside you said?  Such people and such voices talk most when one is in trouble about something.  “Many are saying of me, there is no help from God.”  That was what the many said who were round about poor King David in a dark hour.  But he turned to his God and told Him just what they were saying, and then he affirmed his faith, “But thou, O Lord, art a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” (v. 3)

We cannot use these words if we are pleasing ourselves in anything, and doing our own will, not our Lord’s.  In that case what the many say is only too true.  There is no help for us in God while we are walking in any way of our own choice.  But when all is clear between us and our Father, even if like David we are in trouble because of something we have done wrong in the past, then those words are not true.  There is help for us in God.  He is our shield, our glory, and the lifter up of our head, and we need not be afraid of ten thousands of people [v.6]–ten thousands of voices–for the Lord our God is our very present Help.

Twice in Psalms 3 and 4 we find David taking the unkind words of others and putting them into a prayer.  It was the wisest thing he could have done with them.  The alternative would have been either to brood over them, or to talk to others of them; but no, he turns like a child to his father, “Many are saying of me, there is no help for him in God.” “Many say, How can we experience good?” [Ps 4.6]

This last “many say” will come home to some of us, I think.  It was spoken, as the first was, in a difficult time, and it was a hopelessly discouraging word: Who will show us any good?  How can we experience good?  Everything is going wrong.  There is no comfort anywhere.  This is how those voices speak.

But David is not confounded.  He refuses to be cast down, let the many say what they will.  “Lord, lift up the light of Thy countenance upon us” [Ps4.6].  If only we can look up and meet His ungrieved countenance, what does anything matter?  And we shall experience good.  “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” [Ps 27.1]