O Lord, I have heard Your voice and was afraid. You have called me to an awesome task in a grave and
perilous hour. You are about to shake all nations and the earth and also heaven, that the things that cannot
be shaken may remain. O Lord, my Lord, You have stooped to honor me to be Your servant. No man takes
this honor upon himself save he that is called of God as was Aaron. You have ordained me Your messenger
to them that are stubborn of heart and hard of hearing. They have rejected You, the Master, and it is not to
be expected that they will receive me, the servant.
My God, I shall not waste time deploring my weakness nor my unfittedness for the work. The
responsibility is not mine, but Yours. You have said, “I knew you - I ordained you - I sanctified you,” and
You have also said, “You shall go to all that I shall send you, and whatsoever I command you, you shall
speak.” Who am I to argue with You or to call into question Your sovereign choice? The decision is not
mine but Yours. So be it, Lord. Your will, not mine, be done.
Well do I know, God of the prophets and the apostles, that as long as I honor You, You will honor me.
Help me therefore to take this solemn vow to honor You in all my future life and labors, whether by gain or
by loss, by life or by death, and then to keep that vow unbroken while I live.
It is time, O God, for You to work, for the enemy has entered into Your pastures and the sheep are torn and
scattered. And false shepherds abound who deny the danger and laugh at the perils which surround Your
flock. The sheep are deceived by these hirelings and follow them with touching loyalty while the wolf
closes in to kill and destroy. I beg You, give me sharp eyes to detect the presence of the enemy; give me
understanding to see and courage to report what I see faithfully. Make my voice so like Your own that even
the sick sheep will recognize it and follow You.
Lord Jesus, I come to You for spiritual preparation. Lay Your hand upon me. Anoint me with the oil of the
New Testament prophet. Forbid that I should become a religious scribe and thus lose my prophetic calling.
Save me from the curse that lies dark across the modern clergy, the curse of compromise, of imitation, of
professionalism. Save me from the error of judging a church by its size, its popularity or the amount of its
yearly offering. Help me to remember that I am a prophet - not a promoter, not a religious manager, but a
prophet. Let me never become a slave to crowds. Heal my soul of carnal ambitions and deliver me from the
itch for publicity. Save me from bondage to things. Let me not waste my days puttering around the house.
Lay Your terror upon me, O God, and drive me to the place of prayer where I may wrestle with
principalities and powers and the rulers of the darkness of this world. Deliver me from overeating and late
sleeping. Teach me self-discipline that I may be a good soldier of Jesus Christ.
I accept hard work and small rewards in this life. I ask for no easy place. I shall try to be blind to the little
ways that could make life easier. If others seek the smoother path I shall try to take the hard way without
judging them too harshly. I shall expect opposition and try to take it quietly when it comes. Or if, as
sometimes it falls out to Your servants, I should have grateful gifts pressed upon me by Your kindly
people, stand by me then and save me from the blight that often follows. Teach me to use whatever I
receive in such manner that will not injure my soul nor diminish my spiritual power. And if in Your
permissive providence honor should come to me from Your church, let me not forget in that hour that I am
unworthy of the least of Your mercies, and that if men knew me as intimately as I know myself they would
withhold their honors or bestow them upon others more worthy to receive them.
And now, O Lord of heaven and earth, I consecrate my remaining days to You; let them be many or few, as
You wilt. Let me stand before the great or minister to the poor and lowly; that choice is not mine, and I
would not influence it if I could. I am Your servant to do Your will, and that will is sweeter to me than
position or riches or fame and I choose it above all things on earth or in heaven.
Though I am chosen of You and honored by a high and holy calling, let me never forget that I am but a
man of dust and ashes, a man with all the natural faults and passions that plague the race of men. I pray
You, therefore, my Lord and Redeemer, save me from myself and from all the injuries I may do myself
while trying to be a blessing to others. Fill me with Your power by the Holy Spirit, and I will go in Your
strength and tell of Your righteousness, even Yours only. I will spread abroad the message of redeeming
love while my normal powers endure.
Then, dear Lord, when I am old and weary and too tired to go on, have a place ready for me above, and
make me to be numbered with Your saints in glory everlasting. Amen. AMEN.