“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”2 Corinthians 12:9.
(TMK 283.1)
Through all my sickness the last eight months, [Written during Ellen White’s long illness in Australia.] I have had during my sleepless hours the most precious contemplations of the love of God to man, expressed in the wonderful sacrifice made to save him from ruin. I loved to repeat the name of Jesus; how full of sweetness, light, and love it is! Looking upon the cross, at the humiliations and sufferings endured in bearing our sins, that His righteousness might be imputed to us, softens the heart and fills the soul with His love....
(TMK 283.2)
When pain has seemed to be almost unbearable, I have looked to Jesus and prayed most earnestly, and He has been beside me, and the darkness has passed away and all has seemed light. The very air seemed like precious fragrance. How glorious seemed the truth! How uplifting! I could rest in the love of Jesus. Pain was still my portion, but the promise, “My grace is sufficient for thee,”(2 Corinthians 12:9) was enough to give me comfort. The sharpest pains seemed to be converted into peace and rest. For hours in the night season I have had sweet communion with God. My mind seemed to be illuminated. I had no disposition to murmur or complain.
(TMK 283.3)
Jesus was the spring of my hope and my joy and courage. Heaven has seemed to be very near, and Christ the great Physician, my restorer, the remedy of all sickness. In Him all fullness dwells. Jesus is music to my ears, and although drinking the cup of suffering, the water of life was presented to me to quench my thirst. Christ is our righteousness, our sanctification, our redemption. Through these months of suffering I have had such precious views of the goodness of Jesus that I want them never to become dim. I believe now that my sickness in this strange country is a part of God’s plan.... How urgently my soul pleads for the heavenly endowment. Of myself I can do nothing. The power and the glory is all of God.
(TMK 283.4)