Deliver Me
Amy Carmichael
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 solder 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.
My dad's mom died when he was seven, so I never met her. She went to Moody however, so I feel a strange connection with her. My dad found an old tear out of this poem in one of her books after she had died. It was a poem that was very influential in her life. May it be so in mine.
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