Several great comments were made about my last post. Michelle said that she believed that the hardest part was dying to "self"
It just so happens that I was reading a book yesterday (no matter how insanely busy I am, I always find a few minutes to read) and I found this poem by Amy Carmichael
God, harden me against myself,
The coward with pathetic voice
Who craves for ease and rest and joy.
Myself, arch-traitor to myself,
My hollowest friend,
My deadliest foe,
My clog, whatever road I go.
Whenever I am feeling super-spiritual, I just have to read a little Amy Carmichael to cut me down to size.
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