The Hymn That Emptied a Jewelry Box

In February 1874, Frances Ridley Havergal penned the words that would become one of the church's most beloved hymns: Take My Life and Let It Be. The lines came to her during a night of prayer and joy after watching ten people in a single household come to faith.

But Frances didn't just write about consecration. She lived it. Shortly after composing those familiar stanzas, she gathered her jewelry collection — pieces she had treasured for years — packed them into a parcel, and mailed them to the Church Missionary Society. She kept only a few items she considered necessary. Then she went through her fine art collection and did the same. In a letter to a friend, she wrote simply: "I don't need them now."

Each verse she had written became a personal inventory. "Take my silver and my gold, not a mite would I withhold." She meant every word — literally.

This is what real sacrifice looks like. It isn't dramatic or tortured. It's the quiet moment when something you've treasured suddenly feels less important than the One who gave it to you. Frances didn't give out of guilt or obligation. She gave because her heart had been so captured by the love of the Almighty that holding back felt stranger than letting go.

The Apostle Paul said it this way: "I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord" (Philippians 3:8).

What would it look like if we took the songs we sing on Sunday morning as literally as Frances did?