O God of burning altar fire

O God of burning altar fire,
  O God of love’s consuming flame,
Make pure the flame of our desire
  To win the lost to seek Thy Name.
There is no coldness, Lord, in Thee,
  Oh, keep us kindled lest we bring
To our dear Lord of Calvary,
  Dead ashes for our offering.
Dead ashes, husk of corn for wheat
  Lord of our consecration vow,
We gather round Thy wounded feet,
  We see the thorn about Thy brow.
Oh, by Thy cross and passion, Lord,
  Grant us this plea, this sovereign plea,
Save us from choosing peace for sword,
  And give us souls to give to Thee.
Steven Miller

Detroit, Michigan, United States

I just finished reading "Amy Carmichael, Rescuer of Precious Gems" by Janet & Geoff Benge. One of the best books I have ever read. Amy started by discipling the destitute shawlee women of the Irish slums and lived like they did to prove that one could serve the Lord in their situations. In the midst of a very fruitful work, she felt the call to bring the gospel to foreign lands, and left the Irish work in the hands of her able disciples. Though rejected by the China Inland mission because of her health, she persevered and went to Japan, where she challenged accepted limitations and was fruitful, but had to be sent home due to health after a short time. A friend wrote her that the climate in Bangalore, India would do her well, so she left another fruitful work in Ireland for India. In India, she was appalled at the fruitlessness of the missionaries and their satisfaction with the status quo. She broke rank with them and produced remaining fruit. She had saved so many children from being dedicated to a life as a temple prostitute. When she passed, she asked that no marker be put on her grave. The people obeyed her request except that they put a birdbath on her grave with only the Indian word, "Amma", meaning "mother" on it. This brought me to tears and to cry out loud, which I rarely do.