The following morning, Jennie and her father dropped in to say a last good-bye. Uncle Robert took Mr. Benton's hand in his. "Thank you for coming," he said with great feeling. "Thank you for bringing Jennie. You'll never know what it's meant to me."
The strain of the farewell was taking its toll. The evening before, when for an hour or so he had appeared so much stronger, now seemed like another miracle to Jennie. She would always be grateful to the Lord for those cherished moments in which her own faith was strengthened. Moments in which she heard him relate the memories of the past with such joy; memories of the years tumbling out in a thankfulness to the Lord for all the way He had led him.
Turning to Jennie, Uncle Robert pretended not to see her tears. He could not smile as he bid her farewell. "Jennie," he instructed, "I want you to go back to my room on the farm and take one of the books from my library. I want you to have it as a gift from me."
Her heart welled up with appreciation. He looked at her for the last time. "You've been like one of my own children!" he said at last, and then with emphasis added as he looked upward, "Remember, if I don't see you again HERE, you know I'll see you... THERE!"
They hurried one last time through the hospital corridor and stepped into the brilliant sunlight. It was almost blinding, in contrast to the darkness inside. As her tears flowed freely at last, her father led her to the car. She stopped for a moment, wanting to stand here in this spot, looking up at the trees, the narrow lanes, this small town which had been home for so many years to her dear friend.
After returning to the farm, Jennie disappeared out the side door alone, walking along the winding path past the climbing morning glories, beside the grapevines and at last circled the old barn. A large bucket of water stood there for the cows to drink from. Passing beyond it, she came upon a narrow path almost completely covered with bramble. Uncle Robert especially wanted her to see the pond before she left. Thinking this path might lead to it, she pushed her way through the bramble. She noticed a tall stand of trees beyond. In the clearing that preceded it, she found the pond. It was surrounded by roses—wild roses growing on vines so close to the ground, she needed to bend low to get through. From here she could look back to the old barn that was part of the original homestead. The massive trees protecting it, attested to its age, almost as if the barn had been built to accommodate them.
As she sat there under the blue sky, watching this peaceful scene, she wondered how many of Uncle Robert's little girls and granddaughters had once played beneath the rose vines, running across the paths, circling the barn. His life had been a long one, some seventy-six years. She wondered why she was given the privilege of coming in at its close. What a cherished gift the Lord was giving to her through this experience.
Her mind wandered back to Jaffrey. Soon she would be returning. Seemingly it would be the same as when she had first moved there. But the three who had grown to mean so much to her had been taken away: first Aunt Sarah, then Stephen, now Uncle Robert. It was as though they were loaned to her for a time-a time when the Lord knew she needed them most. With wonder, she felt afresh how carefully He was planning her life, down to the very last detail. His timing was so perfect. How could she feel despair in the awareness of His love for her?
Gripping her, this knowledge gave her a fresh sense of courage. She wasn't holding the reins of her life; the Lord Himself was, and she didn't want it any other way. The more she trusted Him, the greater would be her rest.
As she thought about what it meant to give up these three loved ones, a verse from a recent meeting returned to her mind with new meaning. "And the Lord said... it shall be, that of whom I say unto thee, This shall go with thee, the same shall go with thee; and of whomsoever I say unto thee, This shall not go with thee, the same shall not go." (Judg. 7:44And the Lord said unto Gideon, The people are yet too many; bring them down unto the water, and I will try them for thee there: and it shall be, that of whom I say unto thee, This shall go with thee, the same shall go with thee; and of whomsoever I say unto thee, This shall not go with thee, the same shall not go. (Judges 7:4))
She could be assured that He would bring those people He wanted for her, those He was choosing to be a part of her life. They were a gift from Himself, and if He chose to take them away, then that, too, was part of His perfect ways and of His love! She could trust through days of sorrow, knowing—all must be well.
Her search for a SONG was ended.
Through the love of God our Savior,
All, will be well;
Free and changeless is His favor,
All, all is well.
Precious is the blood that healed us,
Perfect is the grace that sealed us,
All must be well.
Though we pass through tribulation,
All will be well;
Ours is such a full salvation
All, all is well.
Happy still in God confiding;
Fruitful, if in Christ abiding
Holy, through the Sprit’s guiding
All must be well.
We expect a bright tomorrow,
All will be well;
Faith can sing through days of sorrow,
All, all is well.
Jesus every need supplying;
Or in living, or in dying,
All must be well.
Mary Bowley