“But I don’t know what that means, Mrs Dorothy.”
“Then, my dear, you have answered my second question—Are you one of these? For if you know not even what the thing is, ’tis but reasonable to conclude you have never known it in your own person.”
“I suppose not,” said Gatty, sorrowfully.
“You see, my dear, ’tis to certain persons these words are said. If you are not one of these persons, then they are not said to you.”
“I am not.” And Gatty shook her head sadly. “But, Mrs Dorothy, what does it mean?”
“Dear,” said the old lady, “when we do truly abide in Christ, we desire first of all that His will be done. We wish for this or that; but we wish more than all that He choose all things for us—that He have His own way. Our wills are become His will. It follows as a certainty, that they shall be done. We must have what we wish, when it is what He wishes who rules all things. ‘Ye shall ask what ye will.’ He guides us what to ask, if we beg Him to do so.”
“Is any one thus much perfect?” inquired Gatty, doubtfully.
“Many are trying for it,” said Mrs Dolly. “There may be but few that have fully reached it.”
“But that makes us like machines, Mrs Dolly, moved about at another’s will.”
“What, my dear! Love makes us machines? Never! The very last thing that could be, child.”