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Life Sketches of Ellen G. White
Referring to the prospect of death, she declared: “I feel, the sooner
the better; all the time that is how I feel—the sooner the better. I have
not a discouraging thought, nor sadness.... I have nothing to complain
of. Let the Lord take His way and do His work with me, so that I am
refined and purified; and that is all I desire. I know my work is done; it
is of no use to say anything else. I shall rejoice, when my time comes,
that I am permitted to lie down to rest in peace. I have no desire that
my life shall be prolonged.”
Following a prayer by the one who was making these notes of her
conversation, she prayed:
“Heavenly Father, I come to Thee, weak, like a broken reed, yet
by the Holy Spirit’s vindication of righteousness and truth that shall
prevail. I thank Thee, Lord, I thank Thee, and I will not draw away
from anything that Thou wouldst give me to bear. Let Thy light, let
Thy joy and grace, be upon me in my last hours, that I may glorify
Thee, is my great desire; and this is all that I shall ask of Thee. Amen.”
This humble, trustful prayer by one who long had been a chosen
vessel in the Master’s service, was fully answered. Hers was the
comfort that causes a child of the great Father of light and love to fear
no evil, even while passing through the valley of the shadow of death.
One Sabbath day, only a few short weeks before she breathed her last,
she said to her son:
“I am very weak. I am sure that this is my last sickness. I am not
worried at the thought of dying. I feel comforted all the time, that the
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Lord is near me. I am not anxious. The preciousness of the Saviour
has been so plain to me. He has been a friend. He has kept me in
sickness and in health.
“I do not worry about the work I have done. I have done the best
I could. I do not think that I shall be lingering long. I do not expect
much suffering. I am thankful that we have the comforts of life in time
of sickness. Do not worry. I go only a little before the others.”
The comfortable office room on the second story of Mrs. White’s
home was the most favorable place for patient and nurses, and here it
was that she lay the most of the time, surrounded by the familiar objects
of the more active life to which she had so long been accustomed. The
room was light and airy. In one corner a large bay window flooded
a portion of the chamber with sunshine. Here stood her old writing
chair. This was transformed into a reclining chair, into which she was