Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction. Isaiah 48:10.
(TDG 348.1)
All the words of consolation I may give you [Letter written to Elder J. N. Andrews, laboring in Europe, soon after the death of his daughter, Mary.] will not amount to much. You know the Source of your strength and your consolation. You are not a stranger to Jesus and His love. You are among many to whom life is a long conflict of pain and weariness and disappointment. Hope deferred has made the heart sad, but this world is the scene of our trials, our griefs, our sorrows. We are here to bear the test of God. The fire of the furnace is to kindle till our dross is consumed and we come forth as gold purified in the furnace of affliction. You may, my dear brother, ponder upon the mysterious providence of God that has taken from you the light of your eyes.
(TDG 348.2)
You feel that had it not been for this great loss you would be a comparatively happy man. But it may be that the very loss of your child here will be to you, and not to you only but to many in Switzerland, for the saving of souls. Light will come out of this darkness which to you at times seems incomprehensible. “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). Let this be the language of your heart. The cloud of mercy is hovering over you and will break over your head even in the darkest hour. God’s benefits to us are as numerous as the drops of rain falling from the clouds upon the parched earth, to water and refresh it. The mercy of God is over you....
(TDG 348.3)
The Lord loves you, my dear brother. He loves you. “The mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed” (Isaiah 54:10). “All things work together for good to them that love God” (Romans 8:28). Could your eyes be opened, you would see your heavenly Father bending over you in love and could you hear His voice, it would be in tones of compassion to you who are prostrate with suffering and affliction. Stand fast in His strength; there is rest for you, the weary.—Letter 71, December 5, 1878, to J. N. Andrews.
(TDG 348.4)