| I heard today of a decrepit native woman who walked mile after mile under the blistering sun to bring a small gift of embroidery to the missionary she deeply loved. Hour after hour she trudged over rough, rugged roads clutching tightly her small gift. Her weary body sagged; her vision blurred; her bare feet bled from the jagged rocks.
Grateful but overwhelmed, the missionary wept. The trembling old women spoke softly, "Please understand, the walk is part of the gift."
My Lord, my commitment to You is for life. I give myself to You unreservedly to do with me as You please. But may I not forget that the tears, fears, the strain and the pain, the sunless days, the starless nights are all a part of the whole. In my total commitment I give full consent: the walk is part of the gift.
Ruth Halms Calkin
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