by James Meikle, 1730-1799 "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and 1771 - 1780 February 14, 1771. How sad is my case, that the nearer I come to the Sun of Righteousness, the center of my soul, my motion is more dull, and my progression more slow! There must be some false centers that draw my soul aside from God; O to have them all removed, and fly to him alone! March 23, 1771. Instead of being surprised when disappointed by the world, I should wonder that disappointments come not oftener, and they are not of a more disconsolating nature. Sometimes I am tempted to envy some flourishing men. But I have three antidotes against this mental disease, when my soul, returning to herself, has time to apply them. 1. I see but a few that I envy—but I see many who may envy me. 2. It is but when seen in such and such a point of view, or in such a certain circumstance—that I envy others. When taken as a whole—I would change lots with none. 3. The love of God makes up all. April 21, 1771. Vexed with wanderings, and distressed with impertinent rovings, I bewail myself, that I should not wait with more fixedness of heart on God in his own ordinances. But I have pleasure in pious duties, in spite of all the pain and tumult that is raised by indwelling sin. What ecstacy and delight, shall I share in the glorified state—where nothing around shall disturb me, nothing within shall distress me—but God be all in all. April 4, 1772. That person need never be disappointed in anything—who may claim God in his portion. In everything I offend—but in all things the God I serve is gracious; therefore my offences shall be forgiven. The lot that God appoints for me, I will account good, and cheerfully accept of—merely because it is his appointment. In a word, I condemn myself, I acquit God; and am resigned, in the sweet hopes that better things are in reserve for me. June 28, 1772. This Sabbath how have I been oppressed even with infirmity, so that I could not properly attend to the things that were spoken! If wandering one day, and weariness another, distress of body, and distractions of mind, thus attack me—shall not I be compelled, not only to welcome—but to long for death, to translate me to the perfect state? September 26, 1772. Careful about many things, I have much cause to fear that I forget the one thing needful! O that I could shake myself loose of the world, for I cannot carry the world with me to heaven! O! then, to carry heaven with me through the world, the heavenly mind, the heavenly conversation, and the heavenly speech! February 2, 1773. If the path of the upright be like the shining light, which shines more and more unto the perfect day; what shall I say or think of myself—who seem to be sighing and going backwards? October 4, 1773. I condemn myself for being too earthly minded; yet I can say, never allow myself to fall asleep without some heavenly theme in my thought. O that it were my food and drink to meditate on God! December 25, 1773. He who knows all things, knows that I dearly esteem those who have his image; and that I always wish my family may consist of such, and of none but such. I wholly rely on an omniscient Providence with profound resignation, and then, as the events may be, I know whom to praise, and where to implore. April 7, 1774. I have this to remark of Providence, that sometimes afflictions have been sent, when, in all respects, I thought myself least able to sustain them; and yet I have, to my own surprise, been carried honorably through. And at other times, threatened troubles have been suspended until a time that they fell much lighter than had they fallen upon me sooner than they did. Therefore I admire, and confide wholly in the unerring wisdom of my glorious Leader. September 12, 1774. The Christian life is a warfare, and O how the battle is increased in sacred times! Of this I have mournful experience; O for relief and divine assistance! November 2, 1774. In disappointments, crosses, and losses, this I observe—that sometimes I am prepared for the event by an equal temper of mind, and cheerful resignation to the divine disposal. At other times I am supported above expectation when it comes. November 14, 1774. When I look around me, I see one man who has more honor; another who has greater riches; one who has more pleasures; another who has more conveniences; one who has more friends; another who has more relations. But notwithstanding, no where do I see the man that has more blessings than myself. At least, I see myself possessed of so many blessings, which I deserve not, that I desire to be content, thankful, and happy. January 19, 1775. I have prayed for many a thing in faith, which I have not obtained; and at this I have been pained. But on reflection, I think that I have had all my prayers answered, even while my petitions were not granted. For, whatever I asked, it was in the view of its being a good. Now, if infinite wisdom saw that it was not fit for me—though I might be mighty fond thereof—he did me a kindness in withholding it from me. Moreover, my constant and highest request is, that God in all things may be glorified—and he is glorified in doing what he pleases, and in my approving his divine disposal. March 25, 1775. Were I to write an account of all my wars, conflicts and encounters with my spiritual foes—what a volume might I fill! But one thing is strange and terrible to me, that in sacred times, and in pious duties I am sorely attacked—and by a banditti that give me little trouble at other times. May 19, 1775. What a shame is it to forecast so much about the uncertainties of life—and think so little, on the world to come! O that in every scheme and purpose I could submit all to God, and keep the heart wholly for God! One may maintain a fair character before the world—and yet have a foul heart before God. But O for the renovation of heart that is approved in the sight of God! Some days have been memorable in a kingdom for the loss of battles and the ravages of enemies; so the Jews had their fast in the fourth, fifth, seventh, and tenth months. And it is even thus in the Christian; there are some days to be had in mournful remembrance, for the ravages of spiritual enemies, for distractions in time of duty, for vain thoughts and heart-wanderings, when we should be otherwise employed. O for the last victory over every enemy! August 29, 1775. In everything I offend; for as God is still the same, why is not my holy fear and reverential awe of him still the same? Were all the angels in heaven, and all the men on earth, around me in the hour of prayer, would God be more magnificent? Or would he be less to be adored in the silent desert, or in the midnight gloom? So great, so glorious, so possessed of all perfections, and tremendous majesty, are you—that it is only my weakness and corruption which hinder my prayers. January 2, 1776. What a comfort is it, that flying time makes no impression on the unchangeable love of God! I may change my servants, my relations I may die, I may alter my place of abode, and I may see the world turn upside down. But this is my comfort—that the Lord is my God, who changes not. Some great favors with regard to this life I have in prospect—but I plead that God's love may still be the sugar, the honey of all my good things, the marrow of all my comforts, and the substance of all my consolations. If I ever take the creature for my portion, the best of created good things will convey poison into my soul. Whatever good you shall bestow (and I shall gratefully receive whatever you shall graciously give,) I still claim you as my supreme portion, rich inheritance and chief good, with which only I am satisfied and charmed forever. March 8, 1776. I am daily convinced of my own folly, and chastened for my error; and from a late providence I am taught: 1. To commit all to God, and to hold all that I possess, all that I expect of God, where I can only find everything safe and secure. 2. To think more of God, and less of the most amiable of his creatures. 3. To believe that uncertainty is interwoven with every human affair. 4. Therefore never to be surprised when disappointed in the things of time. 5. To study an unreserved resignation in all things, and at all times. 6. To consider myself as only a traveler to another country, and another state. April 6, 1776. An afflicting providence, not looked for, has overtaken me. But what comfort is it to my soul to see sovereignty in it! I can appeal to the great disposer of all things—that he led me in the right way, and when he sees fit, he may make my way dark and slippery. In a word, whatever I may feel, through grace I am resolved never to doubt his love, never to dispute his conduct, and never be impatient with his dealings with me. O that God's faithful overflowing love may fill up all needs, and sweeten all troubles! April 7, 1776. This day I have heard an excellent sermon—but I found a pious parent, and his afflicted family all absent, because an unfortunate child was to be publicly rebuked. No sooner has the careful father got him a church-member, than he becomes the object of church censure. May not this teach those that have not families to be moderate in their desire; those who have, to be moderate in their expectations; and us all to dwell at a throne of grace, that we may obtain grace to help in time of need? What shame can sit heavy on me—which has not sin as its cause, and sorrow as its consequence? April 9, 1776. If all things are possible to him who believes, I desire to act faith on him at this time. But it is beautiful for faith to be accompanied with resignation. Faith in his power, resignation to his disposal; faith in his wisdom, resignation to his will; faith in his sweet mercy, resignation to his chastisement; faith in all his promises, resignation to all that he imposes. This is indeed more than flesh and blood can do. But I plead that through grace I may be enabled to believe all, and then I shall be able to bear all, for faith is the victory which overcomes the world. April 28, 1776. When I look among the great men of the world, instead of envying their felicity, I deplore their folly, and pity their situation; and wonder that I, or any that have the hopes of being forever with the Lord, have not more crosses and calamities, disappointments and pains in the world; or that I should ever complain of any trials that I have. What can that man enjoy—who enjoys not God? Where can he find his pleasures—who fetches none from heaven? What vanity and emptiness is his time! What a round of sin, or circle of vanity—though he should dwell in the courts of kings—who has not a moment for true religion? How poor would the best best furnished mansion be, where its owner only lodges a few nights on his way to the prison of hell, where he is to be tormented through an endless evermore? What can his many friends, great connections, and noble relations avail him—when all the perfections of God are against him—and in a little while of all the fiends of the pit, and all his companions in sin, will be his tormentors forever! May 12, 1776. The plagues of my heart are past description; for in sacred times and in solemn duties, there is a heart-wandering, that defies my watch, and disquiets my whole soul. O! to sin against God when tasting of his goodness, is horrid ingratitude. O to have my heart fixed on God, and the things of time shut out! July 9, 1776. Last Sabbath I went to hear sermon, where I was afraid that I might have distractions. But blessed be his name, I had a pleasant day. O that I could say so of many days, for I am afraid that it is not with me as in months past! July 16, 1776. I attended at a neighboring church, though woefully vexed with a wandering heart. Yet thus am I driven entirely out of myself to Christ, and see that he must be the all of my salvation, both in his justifying merit and sanctifying Spirit. My trying providence is removed, and I am made to sing of mercy, and find that everything that God gives is well worth the waiting for. I would rather have blessings in God's way, and at God's time, than my own. Now, may all-sufficient grace enable me to walk humbly and circumspectly before him; and O to have all my heart-risings, my fears, and anxieties forgiven! While my heart is filled with gratitude at his goodness, and approbation of his whole providential procedure—though painful. July 28, 1776. Though I desire never to trust in forms, yet I bless his holy name, that attending a sacramental solemnity, in family-prayer I had a sweet enlarging. O how sweet will it be to be an eternal adorer before the throne of God and of the Lamb! to have the whole soul glowing with heavenly love! to dwell in the mount of communion, and, instead of coming down—to climb higher through eternity! O to press forward, and not lose ground in my Christian course! August 22, 1776. How much do I err in limiting Providence, which can do great things, and at a moment! My patience may expire—but Providence can never be confounded. Again, the men of the world count themselves better providers than Providence; hence they gouge, extort, and oppress, to amass large fortunes for their children. But mark the outcome—often these wealthy inheritors turn out, when they commence life, spendthrifts—and die beggars. Whence I infer, though, on the one hand, I should neither despise nor destroy what God bestows; yet, on the other hand, to commit my children to the munificence of Providence, whose goodness is infinite, and whose funds are inexhaustible. August 28, 1776. Trust not in princes, trust not in any creature, in whom there is no stability. I leave with the whole creation as false and insufficient—and take God as my only portion. On some late incidents in life, without revenge, I think I can say, Plead my cause, for to you have I revealed my cause. Again, with respect to some circumstances I am presently in, though I have not the least prospect any way, I desire to act faith in God, accompanied with resignation to the divine disposal, in such a manner, (and for this I bless his name), that I can say—According to my faith, so be it to me. When infinite goodness is exhausted, and infinite wisdom is confounded—it is time for me to be perplexed—but not until then. October 21, 1776. While waiting an event of great moment, I have a sweet tranquility of mind, and a full resignation to the will of my heavenly father, who never did, nor never will do me harm. His wisdom, his goodness, his power, his omniscience—compose and comfort me. O to be helped to act as a Christian in every case and circumstance! November 5, 1776. When brought to quit with my request, Providence seems to be granting it. Hence I see it is best to commit everything into the hand of God, and to have everything from his bountiful fatherly hand. But now I flee to the blood of sprinkling to have all my sins washed away. O to walk softly all my days! November 26, 1776. While I have mercy to sing of, why should I be silent? Then I bless you for all that I enjoy, and for all that I expect. How bountiful is the providence of heaven, even in the things of time! O that the more I share of your kindness—the more my love may abound towards you! and whatever gratitude I have for your gifts—may my heart still be kept for the Giver. December 6, 1776. Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer from him, nor his mercy from me; and I still implore the heavenly blessing on myself and my family in all respects. January 2, 1777. Weak-sighted mortals often take God's dispensations as heavy afflictions, which Omniscience intends for their good. So just now, I believe I shall see cause to bless God for this cross in time coming, as I have grounds before of thanksgiving for events, which at first came like sore trials. To commit all to holy sovereignty is my duty, and both now and ever after will be my peace. January 14, 1777. It is good for us to have our high opinions of creature-comforts lowered; for the creature is but vanity, and will disappoint all who depend thereon for bliss. I roll all my comforts into the hand of my heavenly Father, to give or withhold from me as he pleases. I expect a thorn in the fairest roses which grow in the garden of time—but in God I expect endless joy! February 4, 1777. O how has my heart wandered after vanities, and things that cannot profit! I confess my sin, and mourn over it. O let it be known that you are the Lord my God, in bringing back my heart to you again! February 18, 1777. Some years ago I met with a disappointment in an affair which I then looked upon as a great affliction. But from what has since taken place, I now clearly see that it was a kind providence! What a fool am I, to plan my own lot! but how happy am I that infinite wisdom rules for me! March 8, 1777. Dining with some gentlemen at a public inn, and drinking wine too fast and too freely, when come home, I grew so sleepy that I sunk down like a stone, and it was four next morning before I awoke. I was angry at myself, and resolved at no table to drink more than a certain number of glasses. O in all things to be under the heavenly direction! To excite my abhorrence of drunkenness, I see— 1. That the drunkard is like a dog, if he vomits. 2. Like a sow, if he wallows in his vomit. 3. Like a Bedlamite, if furious and mad. 4. Like an idiot, if he knows not either what he does or says. 5. Like a fool, if he knows nothing that is past. 6. Like an Atheist, if he cannot pray to God. 7. Like a dead man, if he must be carried to his bed as to his grave, and falls asleep, yet knows not that he is falling asleep. March 16, 1777. I accept of all my afflictions—but I plead for deliverance from my sin. O what a crowd of vain thoughts vex me in sacred times, and in pious duties! O return, O Lord! how long? March 23, 1777. O how few know anything of the power of religion on their souls! and what continual songs of praise should the child of grace give to God, that he is apprehended by him; while so many are lying in wickedness! April 12, 1777. If I have not a feast within, if I have not joy and peace in believing—what advantage have I more than the wicked? Whatever they have, have not I more? Have they sons? Is not he, the heavenly Bridegroom, better to me than ten sons? Have they friends? Is not he a friend who sticks closer than a brother? Have they, in a word, the desire of their hearts? Is not he the desire of my heart, who is the desire of all nations? April 28, 1777. Committing all to my heavenly father, and confident that all shall be well, I submit to his sovereignty. Do all your will, and I will study to be resigned. Forgive my sins, for in everything I offend; and your mercy be on me, as I trust in you. May 2, 1777. When the good things of time are bestowed on us—when we flourish in this and that respect—when we have the desire of our heart to such a degree that we are ready to find satisfaction in the creature, and forget God—then we may expect some stroke at hand. And often the great affliction is attended with others of a lesser nature. Thus God speaks once, yes twice, that he may be heard. The severest storm is often after a dead calm; then let me always walk with fear and humility. May 5, 1777. It gives me no pain, that in some points I have abased myself. It is always better to suffer than to sin. I bless God that he is governor; I see but the appearance, he sees whatever shall take place. I have a calm conscience, and that is a comfort. I have an all-sufficient God, therefore I have nothing to fear. May 24, 1777. While I have a house to dwell in, food to eat, and clothing to put on—I bless God for his goodness; and pity those who may lack any of the above necessities of life. Blessed be the God of grace, that his love or hatred is not known by the lack or possession of these things. Yet may he who is the Father of mercies supply the children of affliction with such good things as they need. August 12, 1777. In common things I have often experienced the divine direction; and why should I wonder at this—since a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without my heavenly Father? If he numbers the very hairs of my head—will he not over-rule the ordinary actions of my life? My faith may humbly plead with him to perform whatever he condescends to promise. I have but confined views of the omniscience, omnipotence, and kindness of God—if I do not believe that they extend to every action of my whole life. Henceforth I cast myself from under my own government—and desire to be wholly under God's. November 16, 1777. When I consider how near I am to the heavenly state, and how the good or evil of the present state shall be forgotten there—I triumph in spite of all distress, and check my sorrow, and reprove myself that I do not always triumph. He thinks little of heaven for an inheritance—who greatly laments any loss on his way there. He thinks little of God for a portion—who is not completely satisfied with God, whatever else he may lack. February 1, 1778. If I have joy in waiting on God in his ordinances, amidst vain thoughts and distractions; O! what shall my joy be, when I shall serve him in his temple above, with a heart full of heavenly rapture, and glowing with seraphic love, amidst a multitude of sinless adorers, and while entertained with the ever-opening wonders of eternity, and the astonishing mysteries of redeeming grace! April 18, 1778. Amidst all my requests, I would cheerfully say, "Not my will—but your will be done." This pitch of resignation, and no less, shall give me peace at last. It were Christian wisdom—as we cannot see far before us in our requests for created good things—to be submissive and resigned in our desires. June 2, 1778. We seek mercies and beg blessings from God, while we are not prepared for receiving them. But when God prepares the heart to receive gifts, that we may not consume them on our lusts—but lay them out to his glory, it is a sweet sign that he will cause his ear to hear, and his hand to perform our requests. I am blessed with kind providences daily; I experience them in matters of great consequence, and also in my lesser concerns. O then, in the lawful use of means—to commit all to a kind, unerring providence! July 4, 1778. What a constant battle is the Christian's life! He must always be on his watch-tower; one foe or other will ever be assaulting him. And if he is found in a fleeing, not in a fighting posture, he is undone. O how sad to be harassed with heart-wanderings and vain thoughts in holy times, and in pious duties! O that sovereign grace may heal all my heart-plagues, and make me more than conqueror over all my enemies, in his name and strength! July 16, 1778. In obtaining common mercies, the saint seems to come behind the sinner. Esau's sons were dukes and kings, while Jacob's posterity are slaves and bond-men; and yet Jacob had the blessings. Saul is anointed king, and in short time, and with little opposition, he is fixed on the throne. David also is anointed—but it is after a long time, and through much opposition, that he comes to reign, and at first only over his own tribe, where he has a seven years struggle before he gets the whole kingdom, though promised by God. Why is this? Why are common mercies cast to the wicked, in the general course of providence. But these same blessings, though common, come to saints as special favors, and so must be the fruit of much prayer. And the Christian must be prepared for receiving them, by having his graces sweetly exercised. His faith must rest on a promising God, even while providence seems to contradict the promises; his patience must have her perfect work; and he must be wholly resigned to the wisdom and to the will of God, in opposition to his own. Thus the saint is often made to give up with his comfort, or his request—just before it be bestowed on him. Now, this preparation of heart being a great work, requires time and exercise in the Christian's life, and so common mercies are longer in coming to the child of God than to others. But they are well worth the waiting for, and wrestling for; for when they come they come with the fragrance of heaven, and with the love of God. July 30, 1778. When we are very fond of any created good thing, we are apt to have a full belief that we shall obtain that very thing. And when disappointed, we conclude that as our faith has been false in this and that particular—so we may think that our faith is not genuine, at last may deceive us; and we may perish. But this is our mistake. Our faith of spiritual good should be as full of assurance as possible. But with respect to our faith for the blessings of time (as that of a barren woman to bear a son, or that for the life of a dying friend,) it should be far otherwise. Our resignation to the divine disposal should be of equal extent with our faith—and then we shall never be disappointed. Again, our faith in spirituals may be particular for this or that grace which we stand in need of—as the disciples who pray, "Lord increase our faith." But our faith in temporals should be general, that what is good the Lord will give. And we ought not to presume to teach infinite wisdom what is good for us; since the want of a son, and the death of a dear friend, may do us more good than the gift of the one, and the recovery of the other. Moreover when we have a strong affection for anything, we are ready to take our desires for faith—and our passion towards any point as a promise given to us, that we shall obtain our desire. And especially, if we recollect any scripture-text that will any way apply to our wish or view—we take it as a special promise of God to us. In this way, we allow ourselves to be deluded. But we are not to expect revelations from heaven, as the rule of our conduct. Nor are we to apply particular promises concerning perishing things; though we may believe, if we belong to God, that he will guide us with his counsel while we live, and afterwards receive us to glory. We are not to claim a particular promise, that sons or daughters shall be given us—but we are to believe, that to saints who have none, God will give a name better than that of sons or daughters. We are not to expect a promise that our children shall be certainly saved. We are not to dream that this or that particular man or woman, shall be our husband or wife. But we are to believe, that, if God sees fit, he will set the solitary in families; and we are to avoid being unequally yoked with unbelievers. July 31, 1778. While we are mortal, we are to expect trials and troubles, crosses and afflictions, pains and disappointments—always in our lot. But while I feel under a new and unexpected disappointment, I check my complaint, and would rather praise than complain. A parent who gives an apple to a sick child, and correction to a stubborn child, shows himself equally a good parent to both, though the boys may have a very opposite opinion of his conduct. Says James, "Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted"—all men will agree to this. "But the rich should rejoice in that he is made low"—this may bewilder. Yet it is much better to have chastisement, and thereby be approved a son, than to be without it, and be in doubt of being a son. And more so, when we daily see that all flesh, poor and rich, wither as grass in the present state, and quickly pass into an eternal state. My plan proceeded from myself, and therefore, however noble my motives were, I might have flagrantly erred. But my disappointment is from the unerring wisdom of providence, and therefore I heartily approve of it, and praise God for it. For though we are not to pray for, but to deprecate afflictions—yet we are to sing of judgments as well as mercy—and what appears judgment in the beginning, may be mercy in the end. Now, with my hand sealed up, my eye quite shut, and entirely resigned to heaven, I wait on providence without pain or repining! August 6, 1778. Professors will wait a while on God—but at last they grow weary; and, like the wicked king of Israel, say, "This evil is of the Lord, why should I wait on the Lord any longer?" But the true Christian, like the psalmist waits patiently on the Lord, and at length he hears. Nor do I doubt but that every saint dies while waiting the accomplishment of some promise; nor is he a loser; for though disappointed in this or that particular, yet all the promises are made yes and amen to him in the eternal enjoyment of God in glory. Now, it is my duty thus patiently to wait on God, when even such a disappointment will enrich me forever. September 10, 1778. O how difficult to keep the heart in holy times, and in pious duties! The various occurrences in life vary—but continue the snare. O for sweet deliverance! How has infinite wisdom been pleased to mix saint and sinner together! In one house the husband fears God—but the wife knows him not! In another, the wife is a believer—and the husband a barbarian! In another, the masters are Satan's slaves—and the servants Christ's free-men! In another, the servants are in bondage to sin—while their masters walk in the glorious liberty of the sons of God! In another, how are the children and parents, and even the children among themselves, divided! And here I am sad, and sympathize. O for the heavenly sympathy to all concerned! A child, while one parent is uninterruptedly attending the throne of glory, and the other in the courts of grace on a sacramental Sabbath—is in the porch of hell committing wickedness! And a near relation, who comes to the knowledge of it, is filled with anguish and bitterness of heart. The father is mingling his praises with the hallelujahs of the higher house, and the mother joining in the prayers of the church militant—and the son treasuring up wrath to himself against the day of wrath! In a word, wickedness is committed within those walls where prayer is accustomed daily to be made. But should not my heart daily flame with love and devotion! and, alas! what wickedness is committed often there! But O that heaven may preserve me and mine! March 7, 1779. This day I confess that I am nothing, and that I cannot walk one step in the strength of grace formerly received—but must daily fetch grace out of his fullness. My comfort and confidence then is, not that I am not a sinner—but that Jesus Christ is a Savior, and a Savior for the chief of sinners. And I desire to fly to him anew, as if hitherto I had been a hypocrite in all my former acts of religion. I may prove false—but he is faithful who invites me to believe, and will not cast away those who come to him. March 23, 1779. Many and marvelous are the turnings of providence. I grieve not so much that I suffer—as lest I sin in my sufferings. In everything I acquit God—and condemn myself. My prospects may disappear—but my confidence is not shaken; because my prospects are but human—but my confidence is in God. One thing which I mourn over is, that trifles should raise such a tumult in my bosom, and so much possess my thoughts. April 13, 1779. There is one thing which is needful, and only one thing. Henceforth let me attend to it with diligence and care, and not to make trifles such matters of concern. If I am traveling to my Father's house, I should attend closely to my journey, and not consume myself with anxiety about the weather, whether it be fair or foul, whether the road be good or bad, and whether I join agreeable company, or walk alone. For my Father's house will make me completely happy, so happy that I shall forget all the toils of my journey. April 30, 1779. Impatience in any situation, or under any affliction—is a sin. There may be an unbelieving haste to change conditions, and get from under the affliction. But infinite wisdom and fatherly kindness knows what affliction is best, how long it should be continued, and when it should be removed. Now, as I am wholly God's, I desire to be wholly at his disposal in all things; and sure I am I never shall repent it. May 7, 1779. Paul saved the lives of all them that were with him in the ship. O for the souls of all those who are with me in my house! This is a part of my daily prayers to him that is both the hearer and answerer of prayer. May 14, 1779. I know when I meet with a worldly loss—but I hope never to repine. Yet, why should I not also be sensible of the comforts of life? I deserve nothing—sometimes I lose a little—but I enjoy all. O for a grateful heart to him who gives me all that I enjoy! May 22, 1779. I meet with another loss of the same kind—but anything I have in the world is by loan. Therefore, whether friends or wealth be taken away, I am not injured, because the time of my loan has expired. I am more bound to be grateful than to grumble, when so much is left with me, and so little is taken away—who can claim nothing as my own. But there is one portion, Christ, the gift of God—that can enrich my soul, were heaven and earth dissolved, and whom I still claim as mine, were all things else recalled. June 11, 1779. It is sad to be rising into years, drawing near to death, and walking on the very brink of eternity—and yet to be sinking in earthly cares, and more and more swallowed up of worldly concerns. Much of my worry arises from my caring for myself, and not casting all my care on him who graciously condescends to care for me. Henceforth, in every affair of life, I desire to have no choice, no will of my own—but to commit all to infinite wisdom and infinite goodness; and I shall never have cause to repent, nor occasion to complain or repine. August 18, 1779. It has always been a ruling principle with me, not to be unequally yoked with unbelievers; so this day I was married to a girl that I hope has the fear of God as the chief ornament to all her other qualifications. September 5, 1779. O the corruption that dwells within! O the distress that has invaded me this blessed day! I should perish eternally—but that Jesus is almighty to save; and this alone is my comfort. January 1, 1780. Whenever I leaned to my own understanding, and depended on my own wisdom—there I have met with disappointment and pain. But when I have committed the matter wholly to God, it has had an happy outcome, beyond expectation. O! then, let me always be at his direction and disposal. When heaven pleases, he can bless with little—and put a blessing into little. Or he can blow upon much—and put lack into the very wealth that we possess. All is to the end that he may be all in all to us, and that in all things we may have our eye to him. March 23, 1780. When I have sad and gloomy forebodings of trouble and afflictions, befalling me or mine, I am composed with this consideration—that all things being under the government of God, he will conduct everything for his own glory. And as for his glory I would do and suffer all things—so, if that noble end is attained, I can never complain, however much or long I suffer or smart. June 25, 1780. God has been pleased to bring my wife safely through child-bearing, and to give a living mother and a living child. But let me avoid making an idol of anything below. O still to keep the heart for God! I know not how soon, or after what manner, my child may be removed by death—but I commit her to him who has bestowed her on me. July 11, 1780. By baptism I have dedicated my child to God, and I desire no more to look on her as mine—but only as heaven's loan to me, which at his pleasure he may recall, and at which event I would wish neither to quarrel nor complain—however affection may rise, and nature may rebel. But my grand, my earnest, my daily request is, that she may be a chosen vessel, enriched with the graces of your Holy Spirit. I would also humbly plead, that she may be spared to be a comfort for her parents in the ways of piety. December 13, 1780. In all things I desire to acknowledge God. And being convinced of its lawfulness, have inoculated my child—after imploring his blessing on the means, that it may prove successful. December 25, 1780. The child has escaped according to wish. Blessed be his name. |