Miss Jordan was one day so low that she could just be aroused to take her medicine.  As Mrs. Furlong went to give it, Miss Jordan said to her, “Do you want to throw that medicine away?” Mrs. Furlong said “Yes,” and threw it away.  Six hours of united waiting upon the Lord followed.  They were hours of pain.  From nine in the morning till three in the afternoon she suffered indescribable pain.  A few minutes after three, the pain left her, and with a bright look she said, “I believe I’m better.”  She wanted to rise and dress, but Mrs. Furlong advised her to rest through the night.  She said she had not, in five years, been so free from weariness and pain.

The aged mother was sick in bed with that broken wrist, and Mrs. Furlong feared that her sister’s improved condition would shock and perplex her.

Miss Jordan lay on the lounge the most of the time for two days.  One of her expressions was, “It’s perfect bliss to lie here free from pain.”  Her breathing became perfectly natural, and very soon the great hollow place in the upper part of the chest, over the left lung, filled out.  Shortly before her healing she only weighed eighty pounds; but a few months after her weight had increased to one hundred and twenty pounds.

She progressed in health rapidly, and on the second Sunday after the healing came she attended church.  The feeble mother was most sensitively anxious lest her daughter should pursue some unwarrantable course which should lead to relapse.

Miss Jordan’s health steadily improved, but it was several months before a cough entirely left her.  You may be sure that doubters made the most of that cough! But it left her! At one time she brought on a slight relapse by giving lessons in crayon drawing.  She came to the conclusion that the Lord had other work for her to do:  and at this writing, September, 1885, having prayerfully and watchfully followed the leadings of the Lord, is a missionary among the freedmen of the South, and is strong in health and in faith, “giving glory to God.”

One of the aged mother’s perplexities was that the Lord should want her to live on in such a helpless and useless condition, while her daughters, who might be so useful, must die; but oh, how successful she had by precept and example taught those daughters that “He hath done all things well!” How patiently she suffered whatever she thought was the Lord’s will!  How sweet was her constant thanksgiving!  Said a pious Christian neighbor, whose poor health restricted her attendance at church, “When I’m hungry for a blessing I go down to see old lady Jordan.”

After eight painful weeks, she so far recovered from the sickness consequent on the broken and dislocated wrist as to move around feebly, but sight and hearing were almost gone.  Her leg was stiff, her hand stiff, her wrist deformed, and her mind greatly impaired.