These Strange Ashes
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But these strange ashes, Lord, this nothingness,
This baffling sense of loss?

Son, was the anguish of my stripping less
Upon the torturing cross?

Was I not brought into the dust of death,
A worm and no man, I;

Yea, turned to ashes by the vehement breath
Of fire, on Calvary?

O Son beloved, this is thy heart's desire:
This, and no other thing
Follows the fall of Consuming Fire
On the burnt offering.

Go on and taste the joy set high, afar -
No joy like that to thee;
See how it lights the way like some great star.
Come now, and follow Me.

- Amy Carmichael