Signs Of The Times Volume 66., No. 12.
JUNE 15, 1898.
Dear Brother Chick: – Your letter came as a comfort to my
chastened spirit, and I am grateful that such helpful words were in-your heart.
Our King says, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me.”
Let me speak to you of my experience in this affliction,
hoping it will minister to your spirit. Two hours before my hurt, in closing a
letter to brother Hite, of Nashville, Tenn., I said, “Cast down, but not
destroyed.” This word seemed so prophetic and true in the extreme suffering
that so soon came upon me. When the doctors told me that my case was serious,
and that I could never have good use of the arm again, it seemed that such
restraint must cause me much impatience and worry, for I had been quite active
till then, and had thought to so continue. How quickly and painfully all was
changed with me. Was it a sad accident, which should have been avoided by
greater caution, or was it in the purpose of God, “who worketh all things after
the counsel of his own will”? Faith in him led me to believe the latter. This
soothed and quieted me, and it was not in my heart to murmur or fret. Trust and
hopes in God sustained me. His goodness and mercy through all my long life
passed in review before me, and I was often moved to tears of peace and solace.
Even through the many nights of great pain, so un-restful, a spirit of peace
was given me, and with the early dawn the birds of song would cheer me, and my
spirit would join them in praising God. To comfort and help me the more, the
mails brought to us letters full of faith and love. These my wife would read to
me, while I would try to keep back the tears of gratitude and comfort. So, my
dear brother, I was sweetly constrained to both fee] and believe that all this
affliction, and its results, were in the counsel and loves of God. To suppose I
might haves escaped injury would have changed all this experience that has come
to me through the hurt. My deliverance from a violent death was a little less
than miraculous, as a train of cars was near when f arose’. But if I had been
killed, then again the results must have been different we know, yet, unless
the counsel and purpose of God established the certainty of all things, then
all might have been different. Let me mention a few things to show you this. My
son wrote: “If father could only have been a little more careful, how much
better it would have been.” But I was trying to be careful, and the thought in
my mine! (with my sight on the rails) was, “I must step carefully, and not
stumble and fall before the onrushing train. Just then my right foot struck an
unseen wire, and the force of the fall was fearful, and for the moment I was
stunned. The next thought in my mind was, The train is near, I must get up
quick. I do not know how I arose, but found myself on my feet, out of the way
of the train, and badly hurt, but felt that the Lord had delivered me from so
terrible a death. My right arm hung powerless at my side, and with my left hand
I felt that it was partially dislocated at the shoulder, and I hoped that was
the worst, though a long gash was cut in the bridge of my nose, in which the
doctors took seven stitches to close the wound. They found the arm broken at
the shoulder, and set it, but would not admit the dislocation, to which I
called their attention. O how grateful I felt, even then, that my life was
precious in the sight of God. Dr. Wilcox, who attended me, said the arm could
not be put in place unless I took chloroform which at my age would be at the
risk of my life. We then decided to leave St. Paul, Ind., and see Dr. Bedford,
of Indianapolis, and did so June 18th. He called Dr. Haggard, Professor of
Surgery, in consultation. They said there would be no risk in the chloroform,
but the risk would be of breaking the arm again, or of rupturing a blood
vessel. So they declined to operate on me, advised me to let well enough alone,
and told me I had come off well at my age. The next day we went to Olney, Ill.,
to visit my granddaughters, and to consult Dr. Webber at his sanitarium, for he
had sent me word to come there and he would put my arm in place, He did this
safely on June 21st. Trusting in the Lord and without fear I laid down on the
operating table and inhaled chloroform. The nest thing I knew I found myself lying
on a sofa in another room, with acute pain in my shoulder. Soon Dr. Webber came
in and asked how I felt. I told him, and said, “Doctor, you haven’t put my arm
in place, have you?” With a smile he answered, “Yes, my friend, your arm is all
right.” O, brother Chick, the relief and gratitude I felt was too deep for
utterance. About forty days my suffering had been severe, in which time the
broken arm had firmly united and my lacerated nose was nicely healed, and most
admiringly and thankfully had I watched this good physician which the all-wise
and beneficent One had placed within me, and now, by the skill of a kind
surgeon, my helpless arm would again help its fellow arm. O how wonderful are
the provisions of God in nature! How could I have realized all this goodness of
mercy and comfort of love in the absence of the attendant suffering and need!
How otherwise could the Head of the church perfect his body, and enter into his
glory, only through suffering? He must first drink the bitter cup his Father
gave him, and be baptized into death. He thus fulfilled all righteousness for
his members, and is in oneness with them. So likewise, must we be made
partakers of his sufferings in the flesh, that we may also be glorified
together with him; and so the reproaches and sufferings of Christ have been my
consolation in affliction. God is rich in mercy, but only through suffering do
we need his mercy and bless him for it. He ordained both the sufferings of
Christ and the glory that should follow. If we suffer, we shall also reign with
him: if we die, we shall also live with him. Surely, then, these are sanctified
afflictions. I would not have chosen them, but God hath chosen us in the
furnace of affliction, and in his Son, and thus through the sufferings of
Christ He refines us.
“Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.”
My spirit rejoices in him that it is so, and that none can
stay his hand. Now I am in his hand, waiting his will, and praying, “Lord, what
wilt thou have me to do?” I have wanted to write to you and the beloved in the
Lord of these trials and consolations, and testify that “The Lord is good, a
stronghold in the day of trouble.” To his suffering and buffeted servant Paul
he said, “My grace is sufficient for thee,” &c. This is true of us also; it
is Christ’s strength in our weakness.
Now, with love to all the saints, farewell.
D. BARTLEY.
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