O thou belovéd child of My desire,
Whether I lead thee through green valleys,
By still waters,
Or through fire;
Or lay thee down in silence under snow;
Through any weather, and whatever
Cloud may gather,
Wind may blow –
Wilt love Me? trust Me? praise Me?
No gallant bird, O dearest Lord, am I,
That anywhere, in any weather,
Low I lie,
And yet I cannot fear, for I shall soar.
Thy love shall wing me, blesséd Savior;
So I answer,
I love Thee, trust Thee, praise Thee.
– Amy Carmichael –