Oh! sacred light shoot home the darts,
Oh! pierce the center of those hearts
Whose faith aspires to thee.
Without thy God-head nothing can
Have any worth a price in man,
Nothing can harmless be."
"Lord wash our sinful stains away,
Water from heaven our barren clay,
Our wounds and bruises heal.
To thy sweet yoke our stiff necks bow,
Warm with thy fire our hearts of snow,
Our wandering feet repair.
Oh, grant thy faithful dearest Lord,
Whose only hope is thy sure word,
The seven gifts of thy spirit.
Grant us in life to obey thy grace,
Grant us in death to see thy face
And endless joys inherit,
Through the same Christ our Lord."
"Amen."
And now I often use this beautiful and comprehensive petition to my Dear
Lord.
Charlien wrote that she had letters of introduction to a physician in
Philadelphia, Dr. J. Ewing Mears, but in every letter would say: "Keep
on praying." This we did. Oh, the anxiety of my mother heart! My
duties as landlady kept me busy all day and part of the night. I often
had to do my own cooking.
God was good to me and we were very successful financially, and
managed to meet all debts and payments on the property we had purchased.
After I knew the operation had been performed in Philadelphia, I
telegraphed to Charlien. The answer came from the physician: "All
right," but my anxiety was intensified. I became almost wild with anxiety,
and I determined to go to her.
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