〉 Chapter 21—When Sorrow Comes
Chapter 21—When Sorrow Comes
Illness
Lucretia Cranson was the daughter of old friends of the Whites. She married D. M. Canright in 1867. She died on March 29, 1879. (DG 217.1)
Dear Afflicted Sister, (DG 217)
I would much prefer to be with you and converse with you, but this is impossible. I might say to you I sympathize with you in your feebleness, but when I think of you it seems ever sure to me and vivid before me that you are sustained by arms that never tire, and comforted with a love that is unchangeable, enduring as the throne of God. (DG 217.2)
I do not look upon you as repining in your feebleness, but as one upon whom the countenance of the Lord shineth, giving light and peace, whose soul is in fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ, growing daily in the knowledge of the divine will, partaking of the divine nature, increasing in reverence, childlike holy trust, and confiding love. Never did the appreciation of Christ’s blood, which pardons, seem to you so precious, so priceless as in your feebleness, when your hold is loosening upon the world. (DG 217.3)
You have been growing in inward experience, and others may profit by your counsel and your advice. Religion to you, my precious child, has become more and more beauteous. You now find so much comfort sitting at the feet of Christ and learning of Him. The fear of death is past. If there is any terror in the look of the last dread enemy, it is driven away by looking unto Jesus, for He has brightened the tomb by His sacred presence. There is that in your heart which will not rest unless enfolded in the arms of infinite love. (DG 217.4)
Dear child, your pilgrimage is nearly ended. We will not set up our wishes and our wills, but we will let you rest in hope till the Lifegiver shall call you forth from your prison house to a bright immortality. Jesus is just the Saviour for you now, the One whose bright presence will make, in any place, your heaven. Your life, my precious child, is hid with Christ in God, and when He who is your life shall appear, then will you also appear with Him, clothed with immortality and eternal life. Do you behold His glory in your failing strength, full of grace, mercy, and peace? And do you turn to Him like the needle to the magnet? (DG 218.1)
Your days may not all be clear and joyful, but let not this afflict you. In meekness, faith, and endurance, wait, hope, and trust. Your life is hidden with Christ in God. Your life, even now, may be a lesson to all, showing that one can be happy in the failing of strength under affliction. When the deep waters go over the soul, God’s presence makes holy the chamber of His dying saints. Their patient endurance and joyful constancy, their support by an unseen power, is a powerful testimony in favor of the Christian’s religion and the Christian’s Saviour. These light afflictions will be a transforming power, refining, purifying, ennobling, and fitting for the courts above. (DG 218.2)
Oh, the Christian’s last days may be fragrant because the beams of the Sun of righteousness shine through the life, diffusing a perpetual fragrance. Oh, what reason have we for joy that our Redeemer poured out His precious blood on the cross as an atonement for sin, and by His obedience to death brought in everlasting righteousness. You know that today He is at the Father’s right hand, a Prince of life, a Saviour. There is no other name wherein you can trust your eternal interests, but in Christ you may rely fully, implicitly. Christ has been loved by you, although your faith has sometimes been feeble and your prospects confused. But Jesus is your Saviour. He does not save you because you are perfect, but because you need Him and in your imperfection have trusted in Him. Jesus loves you, my precious child. You may sing, (DG 218.3)
“Under the shadow of Thy throne
Still may we dwell secure;
Sufficient is Thine arm alone,
And our defense is sure.”
—Letter 46, 1879.
(DG 219.1)
Death of a Husband
Written to Mrs. Fannie Ashurst Capehart, “Westmoreland,” Washington Heights, Washington, D.C. (DG 219.2)
My dear sister, (DG 219)
I have just read your letter. I will not delay writing, for perhaps a few lines may relieve your mind. (DG 219.3)
My husband died in Battle Creek in 1881. For a year I could not endure the thought that I was alone. My husband and I had stood side by side in our ministerial work, and for a year after his death I could not endure the thought that I was left alone, alone, to carry the responsibilities that in the past he and I had carried together. During the year, I did not recover, but came near dying. But I will not dwell upon this. (DG 219.4)
While my husband was lying in his coffin, our good brethren came to me and urged that we pray that he be raised to life. I told them, No, no. While living, he had done the work that should have been shared by two or three men, and now he was at rest. Why call him back to life to endure again that through which he has passed? “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.” (DG 219.5)
The year that followed my husband’s death was filled with suffering for me. I did not think I could live, I became so weak. The idea came to members of my family that there would be a spark of hope for me if I could be induced to attend the camp meeting in Healdsburg. This meeting was to be held in a grove about half a mile from my home in Healdsburg. They hoped that on the campground God would reveal to me distinctly that I was to live. There was at the time no color in my face, but a deadly paleness. They took me to the campground one Sunday in an easy carriage. That day the large tent was full. It seemed as if nearly all Healdsburg was present. (DG 219.6)
A lounge was placed on the broad platform that served as a pulpit, and on it I was made as comfortable as possible. During the meeting, I said to my son, W. C. White, “Will you help me up, and assist me to stand on my feet while I say a few words?” He said that he would, and I got up. For five minutes I stood there, trying to speak, and thinking that it was the last speech I should ever make—my farewell message. (DG 220.1)
All at once I felt a power come upon me, like a shock of electricity. It passed through my body and up to my head. The people said that they plainly saw the blood mounting to my lips, my ears, my cheeks, my forehead. Before that large number of people I was healed, and the praise of God was in my heart and came from my lips in clear tones. A miracle was wrought before that large congregation. (DG 220.2)
I then took my place among the speakers, and before the congregation bore a testimony such as they had never before heard. It was as if one had been raised from the dead. That whole year had been one of preparation for this change. And this sign the people in Healdsburg were to have as a witness for the truth.... (DG 220.3)
My sister, no longer show any distrust of our Lord Jesus Christ. Go forward in faith, believing you will meet your husband in the kingdom of God. Do your very best to prepare the living to become members of the royal family and children of the heavenly King. This is our work now; this is your work. Do it faithfully, and believe that you will meet your husband in the City of God. Do what you can to help others to be cheerful. Uplift souls. Lead them to accept Christ. Never torture your soul as you have been doing, but be humble, true, faithful, and you have the word of God that you will meet when the warfare is ended. Be of good cheer.—Letter 82, 1906. (DG 220.4)
Written to Sister Chapman, an old friend in the faith, at the time of her life companion’s death. (DG 220.5)
Dear Sister Chapman, (DG 220)
I think of you every day and sympathize with you. What can I say to you in this, the greatest sorrow that has come to you in your life? Words fail me at this time. I can only commend you to God and to a compassionate Saviour. In Him is rest and peace. From Him you may receive your consolation. Jesus loves and pities as we have no power to do. Jesus Christ Himself does sustain you; His everlasting arms are beneath, His words can heal. We cannot possibly penetrate into the secret councils of God. The disappointments and distress and perplexities, the bereavements we meet, are not to drive us from God but bring us nearer to Him. (DG 220.6)
How we pant and are weary and agonized in carrying ourselves and our burden! When we come to Jesus, feeling unable to bear these loads one instant longer, and lay them upon the Burden-bearer, rest and peace will come. We do go stumbling along under our heavy loads, making ourselves miserable every day because we do not take to our hearts the gracious promises of God. He will accept us, all unworthy, through Jesus Christ. Never let us lose sight of the promise that Jesus loves us. His grace is waiting our demand upon it. (DG 221.1)
My dear afflicted sister, I know by experience what you are passing through. I have been going over the road with you that I have so recently traveled. Come near, my dear sister, to Christ the Mighty Healer. Jesus’ love to us does not come in some wonderful way. This wonderful manner of His love was evidenced at His crucifixion, and the light of His love is reflected in bright beams from the cross of Calvary. Now it remains for us to accept that love, to appropriate the promises of God to ourselves. (DG 221.2)
Just repose in Jesus. Rest in Him as a tired child rests in the arms of its mother. The Lord pities you. He loves you. The Lord’s arms are beneath you. You have not reined yourself up to feel and to hear; but wounded and bruised, just repose trust in God. A compassionate hand is stretched out to bind up your wounds. He will be more precious to your soul than the choicest friend, and all that can be desired is not comparable to Him. Only believe Him; only trust Him. Your friend in affliction—one who knows.—Letter 1e, 1882. (DG 221.3)
Mrs. Parmelia Lane was the wife of Elder Sands Lane, who was a native of Michigan and a successful preacher. Later he became president of several conferences in the United States. He was conducting a tent meeting in Riseley when Mrs. White arrived in England. She and the Lane family were good friends through the years. (DG 221.4)
Dear Sister Lane, (DG 222)
I have been afflicted as you now are, and I know how to sympathize with you. I can understand your feeling that you have sustained a great loss. (DG 222.1)
I want to tell you that we received a letter from your husband, written shortly before his death. At the time this letter was received, I was wrestling with the solution of many difficult problems and felt that I could not answer immediately. Later, I began to write in reply, but before my letter was finished, I learned that he was dead. (DG 222.2)
I prize this letter very highly, for in it Brother Lane gives an account of his personal experience, and gives me confidence to believe that he was a true child of God. Some of our brethren had been a little fearful that our brother did not see all things clearly, but his letter to us seems to indicate that he was conscientiously striving to follow in the right course. (DG 222.3)
My dear sister, I would be glad to receive a letter from you. I hope that you may be situated where you may be happy. (DG 222.4)
I am so glad to know that Jesus our Saviour is soon to come, and that then we may all meet around the great white throne. I mean to be there, and, if we are both true and faithful to the end, I believe that we shall meet your husband. We may have to pass through trying scenes, but we are safe as we hide our lives in Christ in God. Many will give heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils, and the only hope for every soul is to look constantly unto Jesus, the Author and the Finisher of our faith. (DG 222.5)
We must now do our part, as servants of Jesus Christ, in bringing to the world a knowledge of the truth. A short work is to be done in the world, and we must watch and work diligently. We must be instant in season and out of season. To the church of Christ belong our talents, both original and acquired. We are servants of the Lord Jesus Christ. (DG 222.6)
We are made sad as we see men and women lording it over those who should be the Lord’s free agencies. Christ is the supreme ruler of His church. Let no man come between our soul and Him. Let us labor entirely for the Lord, allowing nothing to interpose between the soul and its highest interest—overcoming by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.... (DG 222.7)
Be of good courage in the Lord, my sister. Keep looking unto the Author and Finisher of our faith.—Letter 362, 1906. (DG 223.1)
Widowhood
Sister Lons was a recent acquaintance of Ellen White. Learning of Mr. Lons’ death, Mrs. White wrote her new friend a letter of love and sympathy. (DG 223.2)
Dear Sister Lons, (DG 223)
I am happy to have made your acquaintance, and have my heart linked with your heart, and also with the widow, Sister Brown. We have all three of us been left in widowhood, and we have been much blessed of God, in that He hath not failed us in our times of trial. He has been to us a present help in every time of need. There has been in our individual experience the proving of God—resignation under affliction, patience when tried most severely, and humble childlike reliance upon God. (DG 223.3)
We have learned in the midst of dark providences that it was not wise to have a will or way of our own, and to cast not reflection and surmises on the divine faithfulness. I feel that we are those who can understand and sympathize with each other. We are bound together by the grace of Jesus Christ and in the bonds of Christian sympathies made sacred by afflictions. (DG 223.4)
We will, if we meet no more upon earth, have tender, unforgotten memories of our short association with the family at Long Point. I am glad to have met you. I believe that in the providence of God that it is ordered that you be a member of the Brown family. In your association with them the Lord has made you an instrument of righteousness, a blessing especially to Sister Brown. I have very kindly, tender feelings for you, and especially for Sister Brown, understanding the sorrows of her life. (DG 223.5)
Afflictions are oft mercies in disguise. We know not what we might have been without them. When God in His mysterious providence overthrows all our cherished plans, and we may receive sorrow in the place of joy, we will bow in submission and say, “Thy will, Oh God, be done.” We must and we will ever cherish a calm, religious trust in One who loves us, who gave His life for us. “The Lord will command his lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life. I will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? ... Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.” (DG 223.6)
The Lord looks upon our afflictions. He graciously and discriminately metes them out and apportions them. As a refiner of silver He watches us every moment until the purification is complete. The furnace is to purify and refine, not to destroy and consume. He will cause those who put their trust in Him to sing of mercies in the midst of judgments. He is ever watching to impart, when most needed, new and fresh blessings, strength in the hour of weakness, succor in the hour of danger, friends in the hour of loneliness, sympathy, human and divine, in the hour of sorrow. We are homeward bound. He that loveth us so much as to die for us hath builded for us a city. The New Jerusalem is our place of rest. There will be no sadness in the City of God. No wail of sadness. No dirge of crushed hopes and buried affection shall ever more be heard. God bless you, my dear much-respected sister.—Letter 37, 1893. (DG 224.1)
Death of a Child
In a letter to Elder and Mrs. S. N. Haskell, Ellen White speaks of the death of her great-grandchild. (DG 224.2)
I have written many pages today. This morning I received a letter from Mabel Workman [her granddaughter]. About two weeks ago she gave birth to a ten-pound boy, but the little one died two days after his birth. Mabel has passed through a severe experience, but we are thankful that her life has been spared. Both father and mother have felt the trial severely, but they have accepted it as Christians should. Mabel’s husband has proved himself to be a true Christian in this time of affliction, and the Lord has sustained them both. They feel that had they not had Mrs. Kress with them at the time, Mabel also might have lost her life. I feel thankful that Sister Kress could be with them; for she has great tact and skill. Had the mother’s life been taken, all would have felt the affliction keenly. (DG 224.3)
We have been very anxious regarding Mabel for two weeks, for until today no word had come to us since the telegram telling of the death of the baby. I thank the Lord that Mabel’s life has been spared, and I pray that she may live to be a blessing in the cause of God.—Letter 120, 1909. (DG 225.1)
Mrs. A. H. Robinson was an old friend in Michigan. Ellen White wrote to her immediately upon receiving news of the death of her child, sharing her own experience in the deaths of two of her sons. (DG 225.2)
My Dear Sister Robinson, (DG 225)
I have just received my American mail. My secretary has read me my letters, many of which are of a very interesting character. I will answer your letter first. (DG 225.3)
As you relate your experience in the death of your child, and how you bowed in prayer, submitting your will to the will of your heavenly Father, leaving the matter with Him, my mother heart is touched. I have passed through an experience similar to the experience through which you have just passed. (DG 225.4)
When my eldest son was sixteen years old, he was stricken down in sickness. His case was considered critical, and he called us to his bedside, and said, “Father, Mother, it will be hard for you to part with your eldest son. If the Lord sees fit to spare my life, for your sake I will be pleased. If it is for my good and His name’s glory for my life to close now, I will say, It is well with my soul. Father, go by yourself, and Mother, go by yourself; and pray. Then you will receive an answer according to the will of my Saviour, whom you love and I love.” He was afraid that if we should bow together, our sympathies would strengthen, and we would ask for that which it would not be best for the Lord to grant. (DG 225.5)
We did as he requested, and our prayers were similar in every point to the prayers you offered. We received no evidence that our son would recover. He died, putting his full trust in Jesus our Saviour. His death was a great blow to us, but it was a victory even in death, for his life was hid with Christ in God. (DG 225.6)
Before the death of my eldest boy, my babe was sick unto death. We prayed, and thought that the Lord would spare us our darling. But we closed his eyes in death, and laid him away to rest in Jesus, until the Lifegiver shall come to awaken His precious loved ones to a glorious immortality.... (DG 225.7)
But the Lord has been my Counselor, and the Lord will give you grace to bear your bereavement. (DG 226.1)
You inquire in regard to your little one being saved. Christ’s words are your answer: “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” (DG 226.2)
Remember the prophecy “Thus saith the Lord; A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping; Rachel weeping for her children refused to be comforted.... Thus saith the Lord: Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears: for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again to thine own border.” (DG 226.3)
This promise is yours. You may be comforted and trust in the Lord. The Lord has often instructed me that many little ones are to be laid away before the time of trouble. We shall see our children again. We shall meet them and know them in the heavenly courts. Put your trust in the Lord, and be not afraid.—Letter 196, 1899. (DG 226.4)
Death of a Friend
The following paragraphs are taken from a letter written to Edson and Emma White regarding an accident that took place near Avondale College. (DG 226.5)
On Monday morning I thought my family appeared unnatural. Some strange shadow seemed to hang over them. In the morning Sara and I drove to the station for Willie, but he did not come. Elder Gates, who had spoken to the people in Wallsend Sunday evening, drove up with us from the station, and Sara took him to the school, bringing back with her Elder Daniells and Brother Hare. Sara told me that these brethren would like to speak with me. I had a few words with Elder Daniells about the work in Maitland, and then Brother Hare drew his chair up close to mine and said he had something to tell me. Then he told me that the evening before an accident had occurred near the school. (DG 226.6)
Sister Peck, Miss Gates, and Sister Boyd’s daughter were driving from Sunnyside to the school with a horse which we have always considered safe and manageable, though awkward. If we did not watch her while driving, she would turn to one side. The road to the school is not a permanent one, but is laid out for present use until a better [one] can be made. Under the management of Elder Haskell, the schoolboys made a log bridge over the creek. As the trap neared this bridge, those in it saw that a tree had fallen across the road, and Sister Peck, who had the lines, thought she would get out and lead the horse round it. But instead of standing still, the horse began to back, and tried to turn round toward home again. (DG 226.7)
No one anticipated any danger. But they were nearer to the edge of the creek than they supposed, and in a few seconds, the carriage and those who were in it, except Miss Peck, were in the river, which at that place is about fifteen feet deep. Sister Peck was thrown out on the bank, and the carriage in its descent passed over her. But she was not much hurt. She helped Ella Boyd out of the water, but Miss Gates was beyond their reach. Ella Boyd ran to the school and called out the men, and in about three minutes they had the body of Miss Gates out of the water. They carried her to the school, and did everything possible to restore her, but without success. She was dead. It is believed by all that she did not die from drowning, for she made no struggle to save herself. We think that the shock killed her. She was buried on Monday afternoon.... (DG 227.1)
Sister Gates was in delicate health. She had suffered much from lung difficulty. Only the day before her death, she spoke to Sister Hughes in reference to her case. She said that her lung difficulty had returned to her, and that she knew a long illness was before her. To her the future was a terrible dread, for her brother and his wife are both struggling with ill health, and she could not endure the thought of being a burden to them. Her father and mother, brothers and sisters, are all dead except this brother. We feel that it is well that she did not have to suffer from a lingering disease, and we have laid her away for a little while, till she shall be called forth to a glorious immortality.—Letter 203, 1899. (DG 227.2)