"Make me like You"

She asked to be made like her Saviour,
And He took her at her word,
And sent her a heart-crushing burden,
Till the depths of her souls were stirred.
She asked for a faith strong, yet simple.
He permitted the dark clouds to come;
She staggered by faith through the darkness,
As the storms did her soul overwhelm.

She prayed to be filled with a passion,
Of love for lost souls and for God,
And again, in response to her longing,
She sank 'neath the chastening rod.
She wanted a place in His vineyard;
He took her away from her home,
And placed her among hardened sinners
Where she humanly stood alone.

She gave up all worldly ambitions,
Those "castles in air" of years,
And she knelt in deep consecration,
And whispered, "Amen" through her tears.
She wanted a meek, lowly spirit,
The work he gave answered that cry;
And those who had been her companions,
With pitying smile passed her by.

She asked to lean hard on her Saviour;
He took human props quite away,
Till no earthly friend could help her,
And she could do nothing but pray.
I saw her go out to the vineyard,
To harvest the golden grain;
Her eyes were still moistened with weeping,
Her heart was still throbbing with pain.

But many a heart that was broken,
Any many a wrecked, blighted life,
Was made to thank God for her coming,
And rejoiced in the midst of the strife.
She had prayed to be made like her Saviour,
And the burden He gave her to bear,
Had been but the great Sculptor's training:
Thus answering her earnest prayer.

~Author Unknown