By Mary Vee
Year: September 1931
Amy Carmichael: 64 years old
From Amy's Journal
Photo Courtesy |
The doctors had kept me in the hospital for several days. I was given medicine to take the pain away, but it was a strong medicine and shouldn't be taken for very long or it could hurt me. Once I could tolerate the pain, they stopped the medicine and said I could go home.
The driver and a nurse drove me back to the mission. Me and my leg cast. The fall had broken my leg and sprained my ankle. All I could think about was all the work that needed to be done.
The doctors at the mission carried me to my room and set me in my bed. The days dragged by. I couldn't stand on my own. The pain fired up my leg. I began to think an infection set in to the injured area.
I tried to read during the day but couldn't focus. There didn't seem to be any position that was comfortable enough to rest. I couldn't sleep at night. The pain kept me awake. The days dragged by even more.
The doctor limited my visitors to only fifteen seconds. How I longed to get back to my work. To visit with the children. To see the progress of the new clinic. To pray with the staff.
Concern overwhelmed the other workers. They gathered together in the prayer building and prayed for me, for hours. Afterwards I was able to do a little more. Nowhere near what I wanted to do. I took one step before returning to bed. The next day I took two. In time, I could walk out to my veranda and back. And days later was able to get in the car to ride to the clinics.
Most of my days were spent in my room resting. Healing. The missionaries brought the children to my room and sang Christmas carols. I loved hearing them sing--so much.
The worse part of this whole sitting in bed and healing process was being a burden to others. Someone had to bring me food, help me to the bathroom, help me do anything that required movement. I had prayed years ago, asking God to never let me become a burden.
I was the one who helped others. God sent me here to be the missionary, to teach, to help, to tell others about the loving, living God. Excuse me, I need to wipe a tear.
There.
Can you understand how my heart aches? I wanted to serve God but couldn't from this bed.
Come back next week to read more of Amy Carmichael.
Resources used for this series:.
Benge, Janet, and Geoff Benge. Amy Carmichael: Rescuer of Precious Gems. Seattle, WA: YWAM Pub., 1998. Print.
Davis, Rebecca Henry. With Daring Faith: A Biography of Amy Carmichael. Greenville, SC: Bob Jones UP, 1987. Print.
Dick, Lois Hoadley. Amy Carmichael: Let the Children Come. Chicago: Moody, 1984. Print.
Meloche, Renee Taft., and Bryan Pollard. Amy Carmichael: Rescuing the Children. Seattle, WA: YWAM Pub., 2002. Print.
Wellman, Sam. Amy Carmichael: A Life Abandoned to God. Uhrichville, OH: Barbour Pub., 1998. Print.
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Let Amy hear from you!
Let Amy hear from you!
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