Death

"Thy Will" - A Poem by Patsy Futvoye

Many of you know that Patsy Futvoye (the mother of Dr. Matt Futvoye, one of our members here at Pear Orchard Presbyterian Church) passed into the arms of King Jesus last week. At her funeral service Tuesday morning, Mr. Wiley Lowry, Minister of Pastoral Care at First Presbyterian Church in Jackson, mentioned that Patsy had been writing poetry in the months preceding her death. Like so many disciples of Jesus in church history who have suffered long, her piety flowed out in written prayer and praise to the God who had saved her and sustained her by grace.

This past October Patsy penned the following words, read at her funeral and printed here with permission of her family. They beautifully display what I pray will be mine in ever-increasing measure through all my days: a keen awareness of her own fearful, doubting, sinful heart; a faith and confidence in our sovereign God in the midst of suffering; a hope in the gracious gospel of Jesus’ cross; and a Spirit-wrought longing for holiness that was satisfied in every way when she joined the ranks of the “spirits…made perfect” (Hebrews 12:23). May these stanzas be a source of comfort and strength for you as you endure the many tribulations through which we must enter the kingdom of God (Acts 14:22).  

Thy Will

Walking the verge of death’s dark vale,
My doubts and fears do me assail.
Like dawn, your promises are clear 
That you will be forever near.
”Do not fear,” I hear you say.
You guide each minute of the day.
Sovereign are you in every way.
Align me with thy will, I pray. 

I know you have a special plan.
You sent a Savior, the Son of Man,
To bear the sin and take the blame,
Who carried the guilt and bore the shame.
Forgive me, Lord, the pain I brought,
The times my efforts came to naught.
The commandments you gave I did not heed,
Shunned and ignored my brother’s need. 

Thank you, Lord, for your precious Son.
Through faith in Him, my victory’s won.
He has paid my price and made a place
Through His measureless love and grace. 
Holy Spirit, warm my cold heart.
Let me ne’er from thee depart. 
Sovereign are you in every way.
Align me with thy will, I pray.

— Patsy Futvoye, October 2019