Amy Carmichael is for me a hero of the faith. Elisabeth Elliot wrote a wonderful biography of this woman entitled “A Chance to Die”. She was serving as a missionary in India rescuing young girls from being sold as temple prostitutes when she suffered a terrible fall. That fall left her confined to her room for the last twenty years of her life. She was in constant pain and yet her letters and devotional writings composed during that season of pain continue to strengthen believer’s hearts and reveal the riches of a life whose roots are sunk deep in Christ. I awoke with some melancholy this morning and immediately thought of this friend who sought a candle in the dark.
All does not mean “all but the paths we are in now” or “nearly all, but perhaps not just this specially difficult painful one”. All must mean all.
So your path with its unexplained sorrow, and mine with its unexplained sharp flints and briers, and both with their unexplained perplexity of guidance, their sheer mystery, are just lovingkindness, nothing less.
I am resting my heart on that word. It bears one up on eagle’s wings; it gives courage and song and sweetness too, that sweetness of spirit which it is death to lose even for one half hour. God bless you and utterly satisfy your heart with Himself. I remember in old days almost desperately repeating to myself these lines from Tersteegen;
“Am I not enough, Mine own? Enough Mine own for thee?… Am I not enough Mine own? I forever and alone, I, needing thee?”
It was a long time before I could say honestly “Yes” to that question. I remember the turmoil of soul as if it were yesterday, but at last, oh the rest, “for in acceptance lies peace”.
Amy Carmichael, “A Candle in the Dark“, p. 46