If, by Amy Carmichael
I read this poem a few years ago and found myself thinking upon it once more. I am in the midst of a difficult season, but God has been so good to me and my family. Rereading this has given me the grace to continue seeking Jesus above all things remembering I myself still have so much to learn and He is a faithful teacher. I hope this poem is a blessing to you as it has been to me.
If by Amy Carmichael
If I belittle
those whom I am called to serve, talk of their weak points in contrast perhaps
with what I think of as my strong points; if I adopt a superior attitude,
forgetting “Who made thee to differ? And what has thou that thou hast not
received?” then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I find
myself taking lapses for granted, “Oh, that’s what they always do,” “Oh, of
course she talks like that, he acts like that,” then I know nothing of Calvary
love.
If I can enjoy
a joke at the expense of another; if I can in any way slight another in
conversation, or even in though than I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I can write
an unkind letter, speak an unkind word, think an unkind thought without grief
and shame; then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I do not
feel far more for the grieved Savior than for my worried self when troublesome
things occur, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I can rebuke
without a pang, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If my attitude
be one of fear and not faith, about one who has disappointed me; if I say,
“Just what I expected” if a fall occurs, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I am afraid
to speak truth, let I lose affection, or lest the once concerned should say,
“You do not understand,” or because I fear to lose my reputation for kindness;
if I put my own good name before the other’s highest good, then I know nothing
of Calvary love.
If I am content
to heal a hurt slightly, saying “Peace, peace,” where there is no peace; if I
forget the poignant word “Let love be without dissimulation” and blunt the edge
of truth, speaking not right things but smooth things, then I know nothing of
Calvary love.
If I hold on to
choices of any kind, just because they are my choice, then I know nothing of
Calvary love.
If I am soft to
myself and slide comfortably into self-pity and self-sympathy; if I do not by
the grace of God practice fortitude, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I myself
dominate myself, if my thoughts revolve round myself, if I am so occupied with
myself I rarely have “a heart at leisure from itself,” then I know nothing of
Calvary love.
If, the moment
I am conscious of the shadow of self crossing my threshold, I do not shut the
door, and keep that door shut, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I cannot in
honest happiness take the second place (or the twentieth); if I cannot take the
first without making a fuss about my unworthiness, then I know nothing of Calvary
love.
If I take
offense easily, if I am content to continue in cool unfriendliness, though
friendship be possible, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I feel
injured when another lays to my charge things that I know not, forgetting my
sinless Savior trod this path to the end, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I feel
bitter toward those who condemn me, as it seems to me, unjustly, forgetting
that if they knew me as I know myself they would condemn me much more, then I
know nothing of Calvary love.
If souls can
suffer alongside, and I hardly know it, because the spirit of discernment is
not in me, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If the praise
of others elates me and their blame depresses me; if I cannot rest under
misunderstanding without defending myself; if I love to be loved more than to
love, to be served more than to serve, than I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I crave hungrily
to be used to show the way of liberty to a soul in bondage, instead of caring
only that it be delivered; if I nurse my disappointment when I fail, instead of
asking that to another the word of release may be given, then I know nothing of
Calvary love.
If I do not
forget about such a trifle as personal success, so that it never crosses my
mind, or if it does, is never given room there; if the cup of flattery tastes
sweet to me, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If in
fellowship of service I seek to attach a friend to myself, so that others are
caused to feel unwanted; if my friendships do not draw others deeper in, but
are ungenerous (to myself, for myself), then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I refuse to
allow one who is dear to me to suffer for the sake of Christ, if I do not see
such suffering as the greatest honor that can be offered to any follower of the
Crucified, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I slip into
the place that can be filled by Christ alone, making myself the first necessity
to a soul instead of leading it to fasten upon Him, then I know nothing of
Calvary love.
If my interest
in the work of others is cool; if I think in terms of my own special work, if
the burdens of others are not my burdens too, and their joys mine, then I know
nothing of Calvary love.
If I wonder why
something trying is allowed, and press for prayer that it may be removed; if I
cannot be trusted with any disappointment, and cannot go on in peace under any
mystery, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If the
ultimate, the hardest, cannot be asked of me; if my fellows hesitate to ask it
and turn to someone else, then I know nothing of Calvary love.
If I covet any
place on earth but the dust at the foot of the Cross, then I know nothing of
Calvary love.
That which I
know not, teach Thou me, O Lord, My God.