Friday, March 28, 2008


When she was in her fifties, Elizabeth Prentiss learned that her husband would be taking a new pastorate in Chicago.  The move from New York meant leaving all their friends and familiar things.  In a letter to a friend, she wrote:
We want to know no will but God's in this question. . . .  The experience of the past winter would impress upon me the fact that place and position have next to nothing to do with happiness; that we can be wretched in a palace, radiant in a dungeon. . . .  Perhaps this heartbreaking is exactly what we need to remind us. . . that we are pilgrims and strangers on the earth."


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