*just a note for our hearts this Christmas..Thank you to my source.
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 hast 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
thought, then 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, 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 the truth, lest
I lose affection, or lest the one 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 a 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 that 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, then 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 the 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.
Amy Carmichael, "Calvary Love," from If, by Dohnavur Fellowship. Fort Washington, PA: CLC
Ministries, n.d. Used by permission.
