Delivered from Temptation
By L. B. Abbey
DEAR BRETHREN AND SISTERS: The love which the Lord has manifested towards me of late, especially constrains me to write at this time. I have been passing through sore temptation. It has seemed to me the enemy was making one mighty effort for my overthrow. But thanks to God, he has delivered me from falling into the hands of the enemy. When I have a glimpse of the goodness, love and long-suffering of our dear Saviour, I am struck with astonishment. O, dear brethren and sisters, could we realize the condescension of our heavenly Father, how would our heart run out towards him? The Lord is not in need of us, poor sinners, to add to his happiness; he is supremely happy without us; but he has pitied us to that degree that none other could, and has given his beloved Son to die for us, that we through his death and suffering might have life, eternal life. How cheering the word! O, I desire to realize what the Lord has done for us, and especially for one so unworthy as myself, the most so of all his children. I feel as though I must be more in earnest, and give more diligent heed to the faithful and true Witness. I do desire to be zealous and repent, and return to the Lord with all my heart, that I may not be spued out of his mouth. O, I want the tried gold, and the white raiment. O that I may be enabled to make my way strait up the rugged steep, until I shall plant my feet on the top of mount Zion. When I realize how engaged all heaven is for our welfare, I feel like getting into the dust, and remaining before the Lord with weeping, and fasting, and lamentation. Brethren, we must awake. The Lord has done so much for us, how can we be stupid and indifferent? We must awake, or the Lord will come and remove the candlestick out of its place. God himself has condescended to stoop to poor sinful man to save him; Jesus has died; the angels are hovering round to ward off the fiery darts of the enemy; and shall we, my dear brethren and sisters, be negligent about our own salvation? My prayer is, Lord have pity upon us, and save us from our lukewarm condition. Hoping for redemption through the blood of the dear Redeemer at the morn of the resurrection.
L. B. ABBEY.
Hubbardsville, N. Y., June, 1858.