"The Psalmist says, 'All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord; and thy saints shall bless thee' (Ps. cxlv. 10). The new creation of the soul is the most wonderful specimen of the Divine workmanship; and every one in whom it is effected, will perpetually and for ever advert to it with mingled emotions of astonishment and gratitude."
No great while after Mrs. Lobeck had acquired this more perfect knowledge of the theory of Divine truth, and became rooted and grounded in its belief, she was received, with her husband, into fellowship with the church. They both distinguished themselves by their liberality, and by their activity in the various departments of labour connected with my congregation; and Mr. Lobeck was eventually elected an elder, by the unanimous choice of his Christian brethren. There was one praiseworthy habit they formed even before their membership; and from which no circumstances, except illness or absence from home, could induce them to deviate; and that was, neither to receive company, or pay any fraternal visits on the evenings when public worship was conducted at the chapel. They thus pursued their onward course with undeviating consistency; walking worthy of their sacred vocation; an example to their Christian brethren, in faith, in charity, and in zeal; blending in their character so many lovely excellencies, as to justify a beautiful remark made by an intelligent observer, that they had sustained as little injury from the fall, as any couple he had ever known.
Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, is an aphorism which was first uttered by an inspired writer, and now it has passed into current circulation amongst the faithful in Christ Jesus; and as all chastisements, whether light and momentary, or heavy and prolonged, are designed to yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness, they should be submitted to with meek submissiveness of spirit, and unwavering faith in their necessity and utility. In general the Lord is pleased to give his people some intimations of their coming trials, that they may look to him for strength and patience to endure them; but sometimes he departs from this general rule, and, as in the case of Job, the storm rises out of the dead calm—the affliction is as sudden, as it is unexpected. The Lobecks had three children, two sons and a daughter, the living personifications of vigorous health and sprightliness; but the youngest child, a beautiful little boy about seven years of age, sickened and died within the space of a few hours. I hastened to the house of mourning to offer the expressions of my sympathy; and there I saw the intensity of parental sorrow, held in subjection to the triumph of heroic faith. There was a dignified placidity in Mr. Lobeck's countenance, but he could not repress the falling tear. "Our dear child is taken from us," he said in a mild but firm tone; "yet we must not forget that the Lord has done it, who has reasons for what he does; he does all things well. He never errs."
"This, Sir," said the mother, "is a great trial. I feel it at the very core of my heart. So sudden! We had no warning of its coming. Our medical friend did not apprehend any danger. But how thankful ought I to be to our heavenly Father, who has permitted me to see the bow in the overhanging cloud; the dear little sufferer said, just before he died, 'Ma, I am going to Jesus.' Sweet words!"
"The bitter, my dear friend, often yields sweetness. He was commissioned to announce to you his elevation, even before he had seen the King in his beauty, and received his appointment."
"The sound of his sweet voice still lingers on my ear, but the sweeter words of his lips have sunk deep into my heart; and they soothe and comfort me. He is happy, because a glorified spirit; and though I cannot help mourning over my loss, yet I dare not repine. Yes, he is with Jesus, and must be safe and happy."
"You may mourn your loss. This is natural. Jesus wept at the grave of his friend, even though he knew that he was coming back to life. Your dear little one will long live in your memory. You will often recall his form, his looks, his sweet smiles and embraces, his inquiries and his sayings. These reminiscences will keep in continuous flow the waters of maternal grief. But turn from his grave, to heaven his present home. Think of his premature elevation, his dignity, and his blessedness—the sorrows and the conflicts he has escaped. Think of the honour which God has conferred on you; you are now the mother of a glorified spirit."
"I feel it to be an honour, and a great honour. But I shall never forget my sweet little Harry. He was the miniature of his father. I watched his rapid growth, and the premature development of his mind with intense pleasure. His looks, and speech, and manners were so engaging. I anticipated his coming manhood. Alas! he is taken from me."
"Taken from the evil to come; and the Lord has done it."