A Sincere Tribute to One Departed
Article taken from The Gospel Lighthouse June 3, 1944
My Own Dear Wife, The Mother Of My Two Sons Passed Away Saturday Morning, May 20, 1944
(By your editor)
To no more harder task have I ever set myself, than to the taking up of my pen to prepare this article for publication. As your eyes fall upon it, you will be shocked as if hit by a thunderbolt. Such was my own case when I was informed by attending physicians and nurses, “She’s gone!” Despite the hardness of my task in the preparation of this article, I can honestly testify that to no other task in my entire lifetime have I approached with such stirring of body, mind, soul, and spirit. The announcement is simple, Mrs. Wilson is dead!
Those words, cutting like a sword into my very being, must do one of two things to me. Either I must grow bitter because that from my side has been snatched my constant companion and helpmate, whose contribution of talent to the many meetings and campaigns we were permitted to be together in, was so mightily used of the Master, and thus doubt God in His Matchless Wisdom and Love. This I cannot do. Therefore, although grieved and broken-hearted over her sudden, unexpected departure, it has brought me to my Saviour with the cry of John, the beloved disciple, with words I have often quoted but now more fully understand, “O Lord Jesus, how long, how long?” and again, “Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly.”
This month, that is June 25th, we would have been married eleven years. For these eleven years that she has walked by my side in the service of the Lord, she has done so gladly, happily and faithfully. She was an ardent believer in Colossians 3:23 “..Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward…” Her work for God, as all who knew her may truthfully testify, was done with her whole heart
No preacher ever had a more ardent, devoted and spiritual companion. Christ was her example. Him she desired to pattern her life after. I speak of her whole life---at church, in services away, at home with her children, with myself, in her speech, in her dress, in her desires, yea, in all that she was and did. Countless times I have heard her pray to her Heavenly Father, sweetly asking Him to “make me more like the Master each day, and may my life radiate the very presence of Jesus.” Being at her side a great portion of the time, I am able to testify that as these months passed by in her life that her prayer was being answered, for truly even as her precious fingers ran up and down the piano keyboard, literally thousands have testified that the melody thereby created, has touched them, challenged them and even changed them. Certainly through her, her playing was “The Touch of the Master’s Hand”
As no other preacher ever had a more devoted companion, so also have no other children known a more brilliant, happy and conscientious mother, and although hindered much because of illness, pressed on to the best of her ability to see that her children were cared for. In the existing relationship between her and our children, the words of Proverbs can honestly be applied. “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies…Her children arise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.” At this point I desire to ask every Christian reader of this paper please to remember my two boys, Raymond, 9, and Donald, 8, in your prayers, not just once, but for the next five to seven years, during which time their lives will be shaped. Raymond has already dedicated his life to take his mother’s place at the piano, and Donald wants to be a song leader in the preaching party of “Daddy and his two sons”.
As no other preacher and no other children have been blessed of God with a finer companion and mother, so also I say truthfully, no other church has ever had a more devoted and faithful servant than Rowena Mae Wilson. Untiringly and unselfishly she served her Lord in the calling and positions she held in the local church.
Although my days are filled with loneliness and my nights are long and drear, yet I turn to my Bible, God’s Word, that I have been preaching since our marriage and read in Rev. 14:13 “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord. Yea, saith the spirit, that they may rest from their labors…”
In these words I gain comfort, for my dear wife faithfully served her Lord, and I have God’s eternal unchangeable promise, that the dead IN CHRIST rest from their labors. Also “God himself shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be NO MORE DEATH, neither SORROW, no CRYING, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”
The cemetery that I visited already a number of times is bleak and lonely. The rustle of the leaves in the breeze is the only sign of life, and they almost seem annoying. Yet, amid this dreadful silence and despite the lump that rises in my throat and the increasing thumping of my heart, I look into my Heavenly Father’s face and he says so sweetly, I would not have you to be ignorant …concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the LORD HIMSELF shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and the trump of God: and the DEAD IN CHRIST SHALL RISE FIRST: The we which are alive and remain shall be caught up TOGETHER WITH THEM in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air; AND SO SHALL WE EVER BE WITH THE LORD.”
As I walk away from the grave, knowing that the body of my own dear companion lies there, a mist fills my eyes. It is so lonesome. Then Satan would tempt me to doubt, maybe to accuse, but quickly the Comforter, the precious Holy Spirit, helps me to say with Overton the poet:
He Maketh No Mistake
My Father’s way may twist and turn,
My heart may throb and ache,
But in my soul I’m glad to know,
He maketh no mistake.
My cherished plans may go astray
My Hopes may fade away,
But still I’ll trust my Lord to lead
For He doth know the way.
Tho’ night be dark and it may seem
That day will never break;
I’ll pin my faith, my all in Him,
For He maketh no mistake.
There’s so much now I cannot see,
My eyesight’s far too dim;
But, come what may, I’ll simply trust
And leave it all to Him.
For by and by the mist will lift
And all then plain He’ll make,
So, thru all my way, tho’ dark to me
He made not one mistake.
To my dear wife who has passed on to be with her Lord on May 20, 1944 at 7:30 a.m., if I could once more speak, I would say to her as she actually said to me when I last spoke to her at 10:30 p.m. the night before her departure, “Good night, dear, I’ll see you in the morning!”
