I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed by thee or laid aside by thee.
Exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
thou art mine, and I am thine.
So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
Let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.
She could read Balzac in the original language and create a moss garden in the woods. She could play Chopin on the piano and process venison in the garage. She could sit with aristocrats and sticky fingered children with equal grace and appreciation. She was greater than all her tasks. And while she had been published in “Guidepost” and various United Methodist publications, her trade mark was having written in her life time thousands of notes to thousands of people. Her notes were of encouragement and hope.
Luella was a Renaissance Woman. Her early morning devotions were done in French, and on occasion Italian. She traveled alone to France in her late 50’s, staying in Paris, praying each morning at the Cathedral Notre Dame.
Then she took a train to the South of France, traveling alone and speaking with the passengers in French. All this because she simply wanted to learn to speak French more fluently.
She was an artist in many respects. Her home was decorated in an interesting French Provincial and while the “couleur du jour” all across The United States was “earth tones”, Luella’s wall to wall carpet was rose. “I like color”, she confided to me once.
It was her “art of conversation”, though, that kept people enchanted with her. It was because, in fact, she was enchanted with everyone who came within her sphere.
Her Grandchildren had so much fun with her. She made their stays magical with surprises every morning in a special “fairy box”. There was the lighted angel for a night light she kept perched near their beds.
They never quite knew when there was going to be another party. Watermelon on the picnic table, a walk down town for an ice-cream cone, could turn into a party at a word.
Living life with vigor was a combination gift to the boys, both from her husband and herself. She found life inspiring.
As her daughter-in-law, I learned so much from her. Not only did she teach me how to make a button hole stitch, she introduced me to all the best minds who loved God; Oswald Chambers, Malcomb Muggeridge, Mother Teresa, Lloyd Ogilvie, Madam Guyon, Watchman Knee and so many others.
Her love for God was intense as was her love for her family and her world. Luella’s love and energy had no boundaries, and she was forever experimenting with God’s promises. She knew that they were true, and she wouldn’t stop working at them until she learned something amazing.
The opening “Covenant Prayer” of John Wesley details the core of Luella’s calling. It was her signature that carried her forward. In those thousands of notes that she sent to those thousands of people,she always signed off with another quote of John Wesley.
“The Best Of All, God Is With Us!”