It is a case of “distance lends enchantment” to them—they think I want to go. If they only knew how torn in two I feel today, and how precious the home ties are, they would understand…Oh, how could I leave you all, my own precious ones, and leave the joy of being of ever so tiny a bit of help to you (that is not easy to give up!) unless the hand of the Lord were upon me…isn't it strange how though we sing so often,
Not my own, oh not my own!
Jesus, I belong to Thee,
we live it so little. We are very much our own, we don’t live as strangers and pilgrims at all, and when the call comes to one to leave all and follow, it seems strange to us. Oh that we may die, not in mere hymn and prayer, but in deed and in truth, to ourselves, to our self-life and self-love. I never knew what it meant before—dead to all one’s natural earthly plans and hopes, dead to all voices, however dear, which would deafen our ear to His—alive unto God. When I think of Christ’s life in its utter self-death, and then think of ours, of mine, the contrast is too terrible. We Christians have been trying to get as much as ever we could out of this life, we have followed our Saviour, it seems to me, very, very far off.
Amy Carmichael of Dohnavor (Pg. 49)
This book has played an integral part of my love for India. Amy Carmichael lived as a missionary in South India from 1895-1951. Her passion to live her life for the purpose of God’s glory is contagious. She was strong and determined, but also humble and obedient. The day I finished reading this book, was the day I cried out to God--asking Him to show me how I, an introvert that loves to find comfort in the shelter of my home, could be used in far reaching places such as South India. It was the next morning that I met Pastor P.Wilson babu (from South India)!
We will be leaving for India in 8 days. May we remember that we are not our own and that we must die to ourselves, and all our fears, to follow JESUS, the giver of life.