Treatise Life And Death Of John Fletcher
| Author | John Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | treatise |
| Year | None |
| Passage ID | jw-treatise-life-and-death-of-john-fletcher-097 |
| Words | 399 |
He said, “O Polly, shall I ever see
the day when thou must be carried out to bury? How will
the little things which thy tender care has prepared for me,
in every part of the house, wound and distress me! How is
it? I think I feel jealousy I am jealous of the worms |
I seem to shrink at the thought of giving my dear Polly to
the worms.’
“Now all these reflections returned upon my heart, with
the weight of a millstone. I cried to the Lord, and these
words were deeply impressed on my spirit: ‘Where I am,
there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory.’
This promise was full of comfort to my soul. I saw that in
Christ's immediate presence was our home, and that we
should have our re-union in being deeply centred in him. I received it as a fresh marriage for eternity: As such, I trust
for ever to hold it. All that day, whenever I thought of the
expression, “to behold my glory, it seemed to wipe away
every tear, and was as the ring whereby we were joined anew. “Awaking some time after, he said, ‘Polly, I have been
thinking it was Israel's fault that they asked for signs. We
will not do so; but, abandoning our whole selves to the will
of God, will lie patiently before him; assured that he will do
all things well.’
“‘My dear love,’ said I, “if ever I have done or said
anything to grieve thee, how will the remembrance wound
my heart, if thou shouldest be taken from me!’ He entreated
me, with inexpressible tenderness, not to allow the thought ;
declaring his thankfulness for our union, in a variety of words
written on my heart, as with the adamantine pen of friend
ship deeply dipped in blood. “On Wednesday, after groaning all day long, under the
weight of the power of God, he told me, he had received such
a manifestation of the full meaning of those words, “God is
love,’ as he could never be able to express. “It fills my
heart, said he, “every moment. O Polly, my dear Polly,
God is love / Shout ! shout aloud I want a gust of praise
to go to the ends of the earth ! But it seems as if I could
not speak much longer.