In 1876, while vacationing in the south of Wales, Frances Havergal caught a severe cold and suffered inflammation of the lungs. Told she might die, her response was: "If I am really going, it is too good to be true." Her friends were amazed at how peacefully she faced the prospect of dying. That same year she wrote the hymn:
Like a river glorious is God’s perfect peace
Over all victorious in its bright increase
Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day
Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
As her fever grew worse, her family became alarmed. It gradually became apparent that Frances,42, was dying. On Whitsunday, as one of her doctors left the room, he said, "Goodbye, I shall not see you again."
"Then you really think I am going?" asked Frances.
"Yes."
"Today?"
"Probably."
"Beautiful," said Frances. "Too good to be true."
Soon afterward she looked up smiling and said, "Splendid to be so near the gates of heaven!
It's splendid! I thought He would have left me here a long while; but He is so good to take me now."
we will dance, oh we will dance on those golden streets!
where is my passion, where is it?
should i not be joyful?
why do i rather muse about my feelings.
i replay in my mind over and over how this stinks & how i wish it would be better
then i am quickly reminded
"oh ye of little faith don't you remember what happend last time?"
and sooner or later, there's going to be the very last day
Over all victorious in its bright increase
Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day
Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
As her fever grew worse, her family became alarmed. It gradually became apparent that Frances,42, was dying. On Whitsunday, as one of her doctors left the room, he said, "Goodbye, I shall not see you again."
"Then you really think I am going?" asked Frances.
"Yes."
"Today?"
"Probably."
"Beautiful," said Frances. "Too good to be true."
Soon afterward she looked up smiling and said, "Splendid to be so near the gates of heaven!
It's splendid! I thought He would have left me here a long while; but He is so good to take me now."
we will dance, oh we will dance on those golden streets!
where is my passion, where is it?
should i not be joyful?
why do i rather muse about my feelings.
i replay in my mind over and over how this stinks & how i wish it would be better
then i am quickly reminded
"oh ye of little faith don't you remember what happend last time?"
and sooner or later, there's going to be the very last day
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on Monday, September 10, 2007
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