March 2, 2018
Take My Life and Let It Be
Take my life, that I may be consecrated, Lord to thee;
take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love;
take my feet and let them be swift and beautiful for thee.
Take my voice and let me sing always only for my king;
Take my lips and let them be filled with messages from thee.
Take my silver and my gold, not a mite would I withhold;
Take my intellect and use ev’ry power as thou shalt choose.
Take my will and make it thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is thine own; it shall by thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord I pour at thy feet its treasure store;
take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for thee.
Text: Frances R. Havergal (1836-1879)
I remember my paternal grandmother long after I had quit taking a nap— rocking my siblings and myself while singing this song in her beautiful alto voice. More importantly, Grandma believed and practiced the words of this song in her life. There was no preaching—just expectations. If it was Sunday, you went to church. If someone was sick, you helped in whatever way could be beneficial: feeding the livestock, preparing meals, caring for children. If there was a death you took food, gave condolences, prayed for the departed and for those left behind. You gave comfort however you could. If there was a financial need, you contributed as you were able.
Not only did I notice these actions on the part of my grandmother, but so did others. At the time of her death from ovarian cancer, Grandma was worried that her medical bills would prevent Grandad from meeting their assessment for the church building fund. The members of her “Missionary Group” paid my grandparents’ assessment with the words, “It was what Della would have done if she were able.”
My grandmother definitely did not see this as a practice necessary to get into heaven. She fully believed that Christ had died for her sins and that she was going to heaven. And she didn’t allow any of us to think otherwise, either. She shared her love for her Savior in words and practice with neighbors, friends, family, and strangers, and she expected us to do the same.
One of my nieces calls it paying it forward—doing good deeds as you see they are needed, praying that what you can do will be enough to meet the need, knowing that someone else will do the same for you should the need arise.
Like my grandmother, I believe that Christ died for all of us so we might be with him forever, and that nothing you or I can do will earn us a place in heaven. I pray that you believe this also.
Jolene Dougherty
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