Comfort in the Resurrection Hope
By Elizabeth Hutchins
BRO. SMITH: Permit me to address the saints scattered abroad. I do not feel capable of edifying, but want to be on the Lord's side, and my testimony on the side of truth. I realize truly that I am a weak, imperfect creature. Alas! this wretched heart of mine, how prone to wander from its God! Oh, I desire to return unto the Lord with my whole heart, and say: "Forever here my rest shall be,
Close to Thy bleeding side." I feel truly that we are in a land of sorrow, sickness and death. "But the better land no sorrow knows." Oh, blessed promise of a better inheritance! 'Tis there I want to meet all the weary saints; there to rest this aching head, this troubled breast, these weary limbs, where death can never come. We have been called upon to pass through affliction with many of our brethren and sisters. Death has visited our family circle, and taken one of our little ones, a son, aged four years. He died of scarlet fever. His sufferings were beyond description. When I told him, that the Lord would soon come to take all his people to a world where they would suffer no more, it seemed to comfort him in his sufferings. Little Milo, precious one,
Gently sleeps he in the grave,
Till our dearest Lord shall come,
Who has died our souls to save.
No more pain shall rack his frame,
No more fever scorch his brow,
No delirium vex his brain,
He is resting sweetly now. Dear brethren and sisters, is this not indeed a blessed consolation? O, Savior hasten thine appearing, and help us all to get ready, is my prayer. Pray for me, dear brethren and sisters. ELIZABETH HUTCHINS.