Work a Little Longer… Then Follow

From Thomas Carlyle we cite these lines on the loss of the most beloved companion of his life—the wife of whom he wrote in remembrance: “Strange how she made the desert blossom for herself and me…what a palace she…made of home…She was my angel and unwearied helper and comforter…Oh, …be wise, all ye living, and remember that time passes…Fools, fools! We forget that is has to end; so this has ended…” This is the anguished utterance of many who, like Carlyle, have lost those they love: “so this has ended”—and the longer we live the more aware we are of the shortness of this life we live, and always in the background are the questions that confront us as those whom we love leave us one by one: Where are they? What lies beyond? Shall we know them as we knew them here? Is life truly everlasting? Thank good for the assurance that it is and shall be so, and for the faith that we shall know and see again, to love, to live with those whom we have loved and lost. Such assurance comes from Him who gave us life, from we have the miracle of birth, the miracle of spring’s return, as trees once dormant break forth again into full flower—a miracle which in some respects has come to seem quite common place, but which is part of all the evidence and answer to the miracle—and yet reality—of everlasting life. The softening touch of this assurance seemed to come to Carlyle as he left these further lines: “Sometimes there is the image of her, …as if nodding to me with a smile, ‘I am gone loved one; work a little longer,…then …follow. There is no baseness, and no misery here. …Blind and deaf that we are” oh, think, if thou yet love anybody living, wait not till who once death sweeps down” to tell them. Thank God for blessed memories of those who once were with us—and for the real and literal assurance of everlasting life that makes memories more precious—that makes memories but the promise of the unfulfilled future.