The Graves of Her Departed Family
The graves of her departed family — Longs to depart and be with Christ — Questioned in relation to living to be useful in the world — Solemn surrender of herself to God — Evidence of Divine acceptance — A professor who had lived in doubt forty years — Triumph of grace over nature — Call on an aged widow — Encouraged by her pastor — Resolves on a life of active piety.
“Well, Mary,” said a friend to me, “you have been heard to say that you lived only for your children; but your heavenly Father intends that you should live only for himself.” “Amen: let it be so,” I replied. After burying the last of my family, I embraced the earliest opportunity that was presented for visiting the church-yard. To me it appeared a pleasant spot. I thought I should like to lay beside my loved ones, and be absent from the body, and present with the Lord. I kneeled upon my husband’s grave, and prayed that, if it could be consistent with the will of God, I might then depart in peace. My foolish heart inquired, “What more is there for me to do?” I paused. A still, small voice seemed whispering to my heart, “Are you willing that those who visit your grave should say, *Here lies one who made the world no better by living in it?’ Has the Lord no work for you to do?” It was suggested that his design in taking away my family might have been to enable me to labor more efficiently in his vineyard. “Ah, Lord God,” said I, “what can do for thy glory? I am a widow, all alone, and very poor. How can I labor for thee?”
I then remembered that I had an education, and might make myself useful by the improvement of this talent. At this point I lifted up my heart to God, and said, “Lord, I am thine, wholly thine. I here make a consecration of my all to thee. Thou only art to be served; thou alone art to be feared. I will henceforth inscribe on all I have, ‘Holiness to the Lord.’ Ye angels, that surround the throne, and all ye heavenly hosts, witness my solemn vow! And ye, my kindred dust, which lie in hillock after hillock at my feet, may your pure spirits even now behold my consecration! And now, 0, my God! set to thy seal, that thou art faithful and true. May I knoiu that I am accepted of thee; that thou dost receive the sacrifice! If it be thy will, give me an evidence of my full salvation.” In a moment it seemed to me that heaven had come down to earth. The light was greater than the sun in its full strength. I was overpowered with the glory of God, and filled with his fullness. I had now found what I had been long seeking. I knew it was a Bible doctrine, that we should present our “bodies a living sacrifice;” but I did not know it by the name of sanctification, perfect love, or Christian perfection. I supposed that the Methodist doctrine of Christian perfection was something entirely different from what I had experienced. I felt that all around and within me was holy, so fully did I reaHze the presence of God.
Soon after this I called upon an aged member of the Church. As I entered, clad in deep mourning, she said, “0, Mary, how lonely you look! How lonely you must feel!” I replied, “0, no; I do not feel lonely. God has filled up all vacancies by his glorious presence. Grace has overcome the ties of nature. I can now rejoice in God’s dealings with me.” She fixed her eyes keenly upon me, and said, “Why, Mary, have you no doubts?” ‘’Doubts? How can I doubt?” I exclaimed. “All around and within me is God. I do indeed realize that my body is the temple of the Holy Ghost. Jesus reigns in my heart, without a rival. He is with me when I g:o out and when I come in, or wherever I am. I never was so happy as I now am; not even when surrounded by my little family. I now feel that I must live for God alone.” “Well,” said she, “I have been a member of the Church forty years, and / have never felt this. If you do not doubt, I must doubt for you.”
Upon hearing this my heart for a moment sank within me. “Am I deceivedP’ thought I. That moment I was fully assured that I knew in whom I had believed, and was able to adopt the language, “I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor hight, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord.” I turned to my friend, and said, “Are you never free from doubts?” “No,” she repHed, “there has never been a day, since I made a profession of religion, that I have been free from them.” This astonished me, as I had thought her an exemplary Christian, and had an exalted opinion of her piety. She was deeply affected by my conversation, and I left her in tears. On my way home I called upon an aged widow, and found her reading the blessed Bible. She received me much as my other friend had done, alluding to my lonely situation. I assured her that I was perfectly happy. Upon hearing this she clasped her hands, and cried, “Bless the name of the Lord! I bid you Godspeed, and will overtake you if I can. I am struggling for the same blessing, and hope soon to obtain it.” I was as much surprised at her remarks as I had been by those of my former friend. I had no idea that I was making higher attainments than these dear saints. My heart was melted, and I exclaimed, “Lord, why is this — that / should be thus addressed by those so far before me in years and in Christian experience? What am I but a worm?” I think
I never felt my utter insignificance, so much as at this time. I then asked my friend why Mrs. W., whom I had just visited, had expressed so much doubt. She replied, “It is because of unbelief. She does not believe these blessings aitainahle. Therefore she does not seek them,” When I parted with this dear friend she said, ‘’Go on: set your mark high, then try to attain to it.”
On my way home it was sugg€sted to my mind that Mrs. W. did not believe what I had said. This troubled me much, and I resolved to call on Mr. Thompson, and ask whether I had done wrong in communicating the state of my feelings so freely as I had done to these dear friends. I did so, assuring him that I had acted upon the principle that I must let my light so shine before men, that others seeing my good works might glorify my Father in heaven. He said that some made higher attainments than others, and told me to “go on;” to keep all I had received, and get all J could. I expressed fears, lest I should be supposed to think myself better than others, whom I esteemed far above myself. On leaving the house Mrs. T. accompanied me to the gate, and said, ‘’Mrs. Gardner, I do not think it would be well for you to speak of your feelings to every one. Some will be discouraged, and others will not believe you.” These words went like a dagger to my heart. I burst into tears, and cried, “0, what shall I do? If I talk at all, it must be of God’s goodness to me.”
I hastened to my dwelling, and there in secret besought God to lead me in a very plain path; to shoAV me my whole duty, that I might serve him with all my soul, heart, mind, and strength. I knew if I put my light under a bushel, it would be of no benefit to myself or any one else. I shut myself up for several days, desiring, if it was the will of God, that I might live a hermit’s life alone with him. I read at this time a tract entitled, “No life pleasing to God but that which is useful to mankind.” It led to the discovery of my error in asking for a hermit’s life, and I resolved that my life should be a useful one, and devoted to active service in the vineyard of the Lord.