DEATH OF A HUSBAND AT CHRISTMAS
From the collected writings of St Elizabeth Ann Seton
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With God for our Portion there is no Prison in high walls and bolts — no
sorrow in the Soul that waits on him tho’ beset with present cares, and gloomy
Prospects… For this freedom I can never be sufficiently thankful, as in my
Williams case, it keeps alive what in his weak State of Body would naturally fail
— and often when he hears me repeat the Psalms of Triumph in God, and read
St. Paul’s faith in Christ with my Whole Soul, it so enlivens his Spirit that he
also makes them his own, and all our sorrows are turned into joy. Oh well may
I love God. Well may my whole soul strive to please him, for what but the strain
of an Angel can ever express what he has done and is constantly doing for me.
While I live, while I have my being in Time and thro’ Eternity let me sing praises
to my God…
Every promise in the Scriptures I could remember and suitable Prayer, I
continually repeated to him which seemed to be <William’s> only relief. When
I stopped to give anything <he would say> “Why do you do it, what do I want,
I want to be in Heaven, pray, pray for my Soul“
…
The hard struggle ceased…a quarter past seven when the dear Soul took
its flight to the blessed exchange it so much longed for… I often asked him when
he could not speak, “You feel my love that you are going to your Redeemer” and
he motioned yes with a look…of Peace. At a quarter past 7 on Tuesday morning
27th December — his Soul was released — and mine from a struggle next to
death…
I had done all — all that tenderest love and duty could do. My head had
not rested for a week. Three days and nights the fatigue had been incessant and
one meal in 24 hours… In all this it is not necessary to dwell on the mercy and
consoling presence of my dear Redeemer, for no mortal strength could support
what I experienced…
My William often asked me if I felt assured that he would be accepted and
pardoned, and I always tried to convince him that where the soul was so humble
and sincere as his, and submission to God’s will so uniform as his had been
throughout his trial, that it became sinful to doubt one moment of his reception
through the merits of his Redeemer…
The night before his death praying earnestly for him that his pardon
might be sealed in Heaven and his transgressions blotted out… I continued on
my knees and leaned my head on the chair by which I knelt and insensibly lost
myself… I had a dream… A little angel at some distance held open a division in
the sky. A large black Bird like an eagle flew towards me and flapped its wings
round and made everything dark. The angel looked as if it held up the division
waiting for something the Bird came for. And so alone from every friend on
Earth, walking the valley of the Shadow of death we had sweet comfort even in
our dreams — while Faith convinced us they were realities.
4 Elizabeth Bayley Seton. Collected Writings: Volume I – Correspondence and Journals 1793-1808. Ed. Regina Bechtle, S.C.
and Judith Metz, S.C. New City Press: Hyde Park, NY, 2000. 265, 274-276.11