Learning to Live Without

"And shall I pr Thee change Thy will, my Father,
Until it be according unto mine?
But, no, L, no, that never shall be, rather
I pr Thee blend my human will with Thine.

I pr Thee hush the hurrying, eager longing,
I pr Thee soothe the pangs of keen desire--
See in my quiet places, wishes thronging--
Forbid them, L, purge, though it be with fire.

And work in me to will and do Thy pleasure
Let all within me, peaceful, reconciled,
Tarry content my Well-Beloved's leisure,
At last, at last, even as a weaned child."

For years, in times of deepest soul-searching, this poem by Amy Carmichael has expressed and focused my prys. Those times when I want something so desperately, realizing that it's not His will for me or not His will for me YET.

A weaned child has learned to live without it's accustomed, constant source of nourishment. It must wait for specific times to be fed. It must learn patience and submission and a new realm of dependence. Sometimes we have to come to think we cannot live without something and then be pulled away from it, in order to find our true strength and mature source of delight. It hurts to grow. We think we may not survive. But we will rejoice one day as we taste the wonders of His finished plan, just as the grown man forgets completely his pain of being weaned when he is feasting on steak and potatoes.