My mother-in-law Bessie is a long-time fan of the writings and life of Amy Carmichael, the missionary who served in India from 1895 to her death in 1951. She started a rescue mission for little girls who had been sold into temple prostitution, a ministry that became known as the Dohnavur Fellowship of South India.
When I was first married, Bessie gave me a copy of Edges of His Ways which is a collection of daily readings written by Amy Carmichael. And I also have from Bessie a collection of her poems, called Mountain Breezes. Bessie marked her all-time favorite poems, and I will give you one of them here (she can recite from memory) called “Make Me Thy Fuel.”
From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat 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.