The Sweetness of the Third Angel’s Message
By Elon Everts
DEAR BRO. WHITE:—I feel deep gratitude to my blessed Lord, for the recent visit of Brn. Hutchins, Lockwood and Phillips, and Sisters Lockwood and Phillips, in the power and fullness of the third angel's message. O, how sweet, melting, heavenly and reviving, yet how solemn and humbling, poured the faith of Jesus into our souls. Yes, this is the sweetest of the third angel's message. But the narrowness and straightness of the way thrills my whole being with solemnity. The thoughts of our many ills and infirmities, which our frail flesh is heir to, that death, the relentless, last enemy is on our track, and his certain victim we are, for aught all earth can do, (yea, “cursed be he that trusteth in man, or makes flesh his arm,”) would cause me to fear were it not, that the poor despised, exposed remnant had the last mercy drops, of the last message of mercy to the world, for a shield. Yes we can grasp all that our dear Saviour has bestowed in such fullness upon us, to harness us for the coming conflict between the two kingdoms, that we may be unspeakably blessed with the faith of Jesus. The dear brethren enjoyed a great blessing in feeling the strong confidence of a soul-stirring witness of the presence of our dear merciful High Priest, in their recent meetings in Stowe and other places in that part of Vt., while stepping out on that part of the message: claiming through the unfailing promises, and name of Jesus a victory over sickness and pain; following the rule of James, in the faith of Jesus. O, how their glad comforted hearts, lighted up and beamed a heavenly brightness through their countenances, made certain by the falling tear, and thrilling exhortations, which drew out our humble, melted souls to respond a reciprocal heaven-raised amen.—Help Lord our faith, and swell it to a mustard seed size. How blessed the thoughts to dwell on, that as certain as that here a commandment-keeping company will be, so sure a company, and the same, the faith of Jesus will have. O! upon a worthless worm as I, may my pitying Lord grace bestow, and the faith once delivered to the saints to exercise. This faith, sure I feel, that all the 144,000, Mount Zion's throng, must and will have; inhaling healing breezes of Gilead, where our Great Physician dwells, who feels the keenest touch of all our infirmities. O, that my poor heart may, in deep contrition and love, melt down at Jesus' feet, and cry, crown him Lord of all. Come King Jesus. Amen. To me, thrilling omens of the nearness of the end of mercy's message have come, in the deep struggle for the last qualifying touch of the third angel's message, in the earnest fervent cry for unwavering faith, with heaven bestowed present power to make every whit whole. O, Lord in this momentous, perilous hour, hear and answers of mercy bestow; deepen, and spread the work, till like Israel of old, there may not one feeble one be found. ELON EVERTS.
July 7th, 1853.