Poems/Amy Carmichael

Amy Carmichael (1867-1951) was an Irish Christian whose faith story includes serving the poor of Belfast and the abused of India. As a missionary in India where she spent the last fifty years of her life and rescued hundreds of orphaned children -- especially little girls that would be dedicated to Hindu gods for use in sexual temple rituals. By God's wonderful grace, some had miraculously escaped from such pagan slavery and were led to the Irish "mother" who lovingly cared for each child God sent her.

Amy Carmichael

In 1931 she prayed, “God, please do with me whatever you want. Do anything that will help me to serve you better.”

That same day, she fell, suffering fractures that would cripple her for the rest of her life. Not one to be discouraged or bitter when faced with pain or persecution, Amy now had the opportunity to demonstrate God's faithfulness before a much larger "host" of witnesses. While her growing children had continual freedom to enter her bedroom and share their hearts with their beloved "mother," she now had the quiet times that allowed her to write books, poems, and letters that were translated and shared around the world.

Read More:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_Carmichael
• You can find a small collection of her poetry here: https://elisabethelliot.org/resource-library/series-index/the-poetry-of-amy-carmichael/

See also:

• Poems/Martha Snell Nicholson

“We say, then, to anyone who is under trial, give Him time to steep the soul in His eternal truth. Go into the open air, look up into the depths of the sky, or out upon the wideness of the sea, or on the strength of the hills that is His also; or, if bound in the body, go forth in the spirit; spirit is not bound. Give Him time and, as surely as dawn follows night, there will break upon the heart a sense of certainty that cannot be shaken.” – Amy Carmichael

“Hast Thou No Scar?”

Listen to audio here: https://elisabethelliot.org/resource-library/gateway-to-joy/poetry-of-amy-carmichael-has-thou-no-scar/

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers; spent,
Leaned Me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beasts that compassed Me, I swooned.
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be,
And piercèd are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who hast no wound or scar?

Amy Carmichael,
Gold Cord: The Story of a Fellowship

Make us something like the low green moss

“We are too high; Lord Jesus, we implore Thee.
Make us something like the low green moss,
That vaunteth not, a quiet thing before Thee,
Cool for Thy feet sore wounded on the Cross.”

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

Gone

Gone, they tell me, is youth
Gone is the strength of my life,
Nothing remains but decline,
Nothing but age and decay.
Not so, I’m God’s little child,
Only beginning to live;
Coming the days of my prime,
Coming the strength of my life,
Coming the vision of God,
Coming my bloom and my power.