Fain would I leave this world below,
But, Lord, I would my all resign
To Thee, and wait Thy gracious time;
Yea, Lord, I know Thou wilt set free
The contrite soul that trusts in Thee.
Though now exalted on a throne,
Thou hast not left me here alone,
But in the new and living way
Thou guard’st my footsteps day by day.
O Thou, my God and Saviour, still
Teach me to do Thy holy will;
And on my heart write all Thy laws.
And help me to defend Thy cause.
What though the careless world revile,
‘Tis only for a little while,
“I soon shall reach the blissful shore
Where pain and grief are felt no more.
And when from this vile house of clay
My happy soul shall soar away,
I’ll see Thee, Jesus, as Thou art,
And praise Thee ever with pure heart.
Mine eyes, though now in darkness sealed,
Shall see Thy glory when revealed,
All tears be ever wiped away,
And darkness changed to endless day.
By faith I now with joy survey
The glories of that happy day,
When Jesus, our High Priest, shall come
And take His waiting people home.
Amid the cares and troubles here,
This hope my drooping soul doth cheer,
That I shall then my Saviour see,
And praise Him through eternity.”
Dear children, such is a poor blind girl’s song of praise. She repeated it slowly to me, as her little fingers did her first large piece of knitting. Shall I tell you what it was like? A very clever person, whose name was Whytock, invented a very curious and pretty sort of knitting, done from a very large ball of wool. The number of stitches for the first row is given, and then a knot is put where every row ought to end. In this way a beautiful bouquet of flowers is worked out, without trouble, by the careful and regular knitter. It was a pleasure to see the blind child work with perfect regularity this large piece of knitting, feeling for the little knot which must mark the end of each row; and as I told her of the beautiful flowers her little fingers were working, out, and which her sightless eyes were never to see, she would laugh with childish merriment over and over again. Ah! she could laugh now; she no longer had the sad dark face of hopeless sorrow, but a bright smile which told of peace within lit up her features, and made her sing for very joy.
Another day she repeated a little hymn to me as we sat together. “This one,” she said, “is to ask poor sinners to come to Jesus.” She gave it this title: —
“Why Will Ye Die?”
“To the ark of refuge flee,
All that heavy laden be;
God is still beseeching thee,
Why will ye die?
Jesus is the living way,
Come ! for this is mercy’s day,
None shall e’er be cast away,—
Why will ye die?
All that ever to Him came
Found redemption in His name,
And the Lord is still the same,—
Why will ye die?
For the guilty world He bled,
And for sins atonement made,
‘It is finished,’ Jesus said,—
Why will ye die?
He, the pure and spotless Lamb,
Tasted death for everyone,
Finished the redeeming plan,—
Why will ye die?
Come to Jesus as thou art,
He will bind thy broken heart,
And eternal life impart,
Why will ye die ?
I am afraid I may tire you, dear children, by giving you so many of dear Maggie’s hymns, so if you are so very tired we shall not read them. I have a great many, but only two more short ones I shall give you, and then we shall close our story of dear little blind Maggie. This one she named
“The Sinner’s Refuge.”
“Take refuge in our gracious Lord,
He on you yet doth wait,
And be instructed by His Word
Before it is too late.
He that made the deaf to hear,
And to the blind gave sight,
Can also all your burdens bear
And fill your souls with light.
He that conquered death and hell,
And Satan’s fiery darts,
Can also lead you to that well
That heals the broken hearts.
Then to the blessed Saviour flee,
While yet He may be found,
For He can set at liberty
The soul by Satan bound.”
Since the day dear Maggie was converted, and her heart was opened to see Jesus, she seldom spoke of her sightless eyes. In the following little hymn she just mentions them in contrast with the joy the Lord has given her in Himself. I shall quote it for you, as it is very short—
“I in the Lord do put my trust,
On Him I do rely;
My confidence, O Lord, is placed
In Thee, who reign’st on high.
I am afflicted sore, 0 Lord,
Yet will I praise Thy name
With all my soul, and heart and strength
While I in life remain.
My eyes are sealed in darkness,
Lord, My sorrows seldom cease,
Yet will I praise Thee, heavenly Lord,
The God of love and peace.”
Dear children, could you say, like blind Maggie, I know God as the God of love and peace; He has manifested His love to me in Jesus, and I know what it is to have peace through His perfect work upon the cross for me?
ML 07/01/1906