Not many months after my conversion, having a leisure afternoon, I retired to my own chamber to spend it largely in communion with God (prayer). Well do I remember that occasion. How in the gladness of my heart I poured out my soul before God; and again and again confessing my grateful love to Him who had done everything for me--who had saved me when I had given up all hope and even desire for salvation--I besought Him to give me some work to do for Him, as an outlet for love and gratitude; some self-denying service, no matter what it might be, however trying or however trivial; something with which He would be pleased, and that I might do for Him who had done so much for me. Well do I remember, as in unreserved consecration I put myself, my life, my friends, my all, upon the altar, the deep solemnity that came over my soul with the assurance that my offering was accepted. The presence of God became unutterably real and blessed; and though but a child under sixteen, I remember stretching myself on the ground, and lying there silent before Him with unspeakable awe and unspeakable joy.
This man was James Hudson Taylor (1835-1905), who throughout his life continued in this prayer and was part of a movement of over 800 missionaries that joined him in a successful journey to bring Christ to the unreached provinces of China.