Trusting Him in the Dark July 28 After Brighton I was so worn out that I felt sure I must rest somehow, and as England could not afford me much quiet any where, I determined to fulfil a long cherished wish and go to Switzerland. A very kind friend, one of Sir Fowell Buxton’s granddaughters offered to be my guide and caretaker, and on the 14th. of June, we started, this friend Miss Priscilla Johnston, a friend of hers named Blanche Pigot, my cousin Wm. Hilles, who came over with me from America, my Mary, and myself. We had a delightful trip of a little over two weeks, and I was returning home thoroughly rested and refreshed, expecting at once to plunge into work, as we had conferences arranged for the most of the summer. At Dover I was met by a telegram handed into the rail road car window saying that Robert was ill at Paris and I had better return to him at once! Of course I did so. But can you imagine the utter perplexity into which I was thrown? My last news from him had been so different. But amid all the uncertainty and perplexity I could rest quietly in the sweet will of God, and I felt as I travelled on through the night to meet I knew not what that whatever I might meet, I was sure I was going to meet the will of God; and this was always good. And I could sing continually our dear old Brighton hymn “Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by, Trusting Him whate’er befall Trusting Jesus, that is all.” I found Robert at the Hotel du Louvre utterly broken down. He had left London intending to join us in Switzerland and keep us there with him for a month or two to rest and recruit. But he was taken too ill in Paris to go any further. And I soon decided that our only wise course was to go home. It is a complete break down, and a threatening of the same dreadful nervousness from which he suffered so fearfully two years ago, and I am sure nothing but a long rest and thorough change of scene and occupations will be of any avail. This is the third attack, and past experience had convinced us that it is not a thing to be trifled with. I felt therefore that we must go straight home; and not only on Robert’s account but also because of the dear children who of course are no where so well off as at home. It was very easy to convince Robert, and we at once wrote for staterooms which we secured on the S.S. Pennsylvania which sails on the 14th. of this month. I then brought Robert on here to rest and be quiet until the day for sailing comes. He has lost 20 lbs. already, and is suffering very much from almost constant nausea, and from his head. At times even a few moments of conversation utterly exhausts him. But I trust the lovely air of this place will strengthen him so much as to make the voyage endurable. What the result will be it is impossible to say. I have always feared that a third attack would be very serious. But the Lord has taught me the lesson of living by the moment, and I am not anxious. We are in the Lord’s hands, and He loves us, and I can trust Him with everything. It seems a mysterious dispensation, but surely by this time I ought to know Him well enough to trust Him in the dark. And the change of plans is no disappointment to me, for it makes but little difference to me what I do, if only I am doing His will. I am delighted to be going home again. It was a great trial. —To a Friend, Penmaen Mawr, North Wales, July 7, 1875 Smith, H. W., & Dieter, M. E. (1997). The Christian’s secret of a holy life: The unpublished personal writings of Hannah Whitall Smith. Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc.
Posted on: Sun, 28 Jul 2013 10:31:10 +0000
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