On July 17, 1854, Havergal was confirmed at Worcester Cathedral.
In the procession to Worcester Cathedral Ellen Wakeman was my companion. On reaching our seat very near the rails, I sunk on my knees, and for the first time to-day the thought of “whose I am” burst upon me, and I prayed “my God, oh, my own Father, Thou blessed Jesus my own Saviour, Thou Holy Spirit my own Comforter,” and I stopped. It scarcely seemed right for me to use the language of such strong assurance as this, but yet I did not retract. The Litany only was chanted; and, though my thoughts would fain have flown with each petition heavenward, yet every little thing seemed trebly a distraction, and the chanting was too often the subject of my thoughts. My heart beat very fast, and my breath almost seemed to stop, while the solemn question was being put by the Bishop. Never I think did I feel my own weakness and utter helplessness so much. I hardly dared answer; but “the Lord is my strength” was graciously suggested to me, and then the words quickly came from (I trust) my very heart; “Lord, I cannot without Thee, but oh, with Thy almighty help,—I Do.”
I believe that the solemnity of what had just been uttered, with its exceeding comprehensiveness, was realized by me as far as my mind could grasp it. I thought a good deal of the words “now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling”; and that was my chief comfort. We were the first to go up, and I was the fourth or fifth on whom the bishop laid his hands. At first, the thought came as to who was kneeling next to me, but then the next moment I felt alone, unconscious of my fellow candidates, of the many eyes fixed upon us, and the many thoughts of and prayers for me, alone with God and His chief minister. My feelings when his hands were placed on my head (and there was solemnity and earnestness in the very touch and manner) I cannot describe, they were too confused; but when the words “Defend, O Lord, this Thy child with Thy heavenly grace, that she may continue Thine for ever, and daily increase in Thy Holy Spirit more and more, until she come unto Thy everlasting kingdom,” were solemnly pronounced, if ever my heart followed a prayer it did then, if ever it thrilled with earnest longing not unmixed with joy, it did at the words “Thine for ever.” But, as if in no feeling I might or could rest satisfied, there was still a longing “oh that I desired this yet more earnestly, that I believed it yet more fully.” We returned to our seats, and for some time I wept, why I hardly know, it was not grief, nor anxiety, nor exactly joy. About an hour and a quarter elapsed before all the candidates had been up to the rails; part of the time being spent in meditation on the double transaction which was now sealed, and in thinking that I was now more than ever His; but I still rather sadly wished that I could feel more. Many portions of Scripture passed through my mind, particularly part of Romans viii. . . . Each time that the “Amen” was chanted in a more distant part of the cathedral, after the “Defend” had been pronounced, it seemed as though a choir of angels had come down to witness, and pour out from their pure spirits a deep and felt “Amen.”
Oh!” Thine for ever,” what a blessed thing
To be for ever His who died for me!
My Saviour, all my life Thy praise I’l1 sing,
Nor cease my song throughout eternity.
—In Worcester Cathedral, July 17, 1854.
At the close of 1873 Miss Havergal came to long for a deeper knowledge of God. On Sunday, December 2, of that year she was brought to see, as by a flash of light, that she could not have the full blessedness of a Christian without a full surrender to Christ.
On the fourth anniversary of December 2nd, 1873, my dear sister [Frances] had written:
It was a peculiarly trying day as to other things ; but, as I was remembering that blessed day, and all the
blessedness of the way ever since, and the words in Jeremiah ii. 2, I cannot tell you the sweetness of it and
the assurance that He was indeed remembering me.” The love of thine espousals.” Do look at the verse,
for it applies just as much to you, dear H , as to me.
Havergal would go on to write:
Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days;
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands, and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice, and let me sing,
Always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will, and make it Thine;
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own;
It shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love; my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure-store.
Take myself, and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.
Picture Edward Swift, CC BY-SA 4.0
Sorry, no records were found. Please adjust your search criteria and try again.
Sorry, unable to load the Maps API.