We cannot better close this chapter than by quoting from that bed-ridden saint and soldier of India, Miss Amy Carmichael.  She knew the pathway of suffering.  She bore in her body the marks of the Lord Jesus:

We who follow the Crucified are not here to make a pleasant thing of life; we are called to suffering for the sake of a suffering, sinful world.  The Lord forgive us our shameful evasions and hesitations.  His brow was crowned with thorns; do we seek rosebuds for our crowning?  His hands were pierced with nails; are our hands ringed with jewels?  His feet were bare and bound; do our feet walk delicately?  What do we know of travail? of tears that scald before they fall? of heartbreak? of being scorned?  God forgive us our love of case.  God forgive us that so often we turn our faces from a life that is even remotely like His.  Forgive us that we all but worship comfort, the delight of the presence of loved ones, possessions, treasure on earth.  Far, far from our prayers too often is any thought of prayer for a love which will lead us to give one whom we love to follow our Lord to Gethsemane, to Calvary-perhaps because we have never been there ourselves.

Writing in this cold-war world, how can one tolerate the softness of the flesh, the love of ease, the self-pity and self-saving which has all but killed Christian testimony!  Oh, the pain, the shame, the heartbreak of it all!