In every mail that goes to Australia I send a letter to Stephen Belden, with copies of letters that I have written to others. If I happen to miss a mail, he feels this deeply. Just now I am sending him all that I can; for I fear that each mail that goes will be the last in which I can send him anything. Poor man, he is dying of cancer, and I am so far away that I cannot be near to help him. But I can write to him, and I can pray for him.—Letter 348, 1906.
(RY 62.1)
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I know that poor Stephen must have suffered severely, but let us be thankful that the end came quietly. Of him the words apply: “Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus. And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors: and their works do follow them. And I looked, and behold a white cloud, and upon the cloud one sat like unto the Son of man, having on His head a golden crown, and in His hand a sharp sickle. And another angel came out of the temple, crying with a loud voice to Him that sat on the cloud, Thrust in Thy sickle, and reap: for the time is come for Thee to reap; for the harvest of the earth is ripe” (Revelation 14:12-15).
(RY 62.2)
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These scenes will soon transpire, and then we shall better understand the words, “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord.”
(RY 62.3)
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