Oh, what a multitude of women in heaven! Mary, Christ's mother, in
heaven; Elizabeth Fry in heaven; Charlotte Elizabeth in heaven; the
mother of Augustine in heaven; the Countess of Huntingdon--who sold
her splendid jewels to build chapels--in heaven; while a great many
others, who have never been heard of on earth, or known but little,
have gone into the rest and peace of heaven. What a rest! What a
change it was from the small room, with no fire and one window, the
glass broken out, and the aching side and worn-out eyes, to the "house
of many mansions!" No more stitching until twelve o'clock at night, no
more thrusting of the thumb by the employer through the work to show
it was not done quite right. Plenty of bread at last. Heaven for
aching heads. Heaven for broken hearts. Heaven for anguish-bitten
frames. No more sitting up until midnight for the coming of staggering
steps. No more rough blows across the temples. No more sharp, keen,
bitter curse.
Some of you will have no rest in this world. It will be toil and
struggle and suffering all the way up. You will have to stand at your
door fighting back the wolf with your own hand red with carnage. But
God has a crown for you.
I want you to realize, this morning, that He is now making it, and
whenever you weep a tear He sets another gem in that crown, whenever
you have a pang of body or soul He puts another gem in that crown,
until, after a while, in all the tiara there will be no room for
another splendor, and God will say to His angel, "The crown is done;
let her up that she may wear it." And as the Lord of Righteousness
puts the crown upon your brow, angel will cry to angel, "Who is she?"
and Christ will say, "I will tell you who she is. She is the one that
came up out of great tribulation, and had her robe washed and made
white in the blood of the Lamb."