To the Lady Craighall — Letter 70
Honorable and Christian Lady.
Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I cannot but write to your ladyship of the sweet and glorious terms I am in with the most joyful King that ever was, under this well-thriving and prosperous cross. It is my Lord's salvation wrought by his own right hand that the water does not suffocate the breath of hope and joyful courage in the Lord Jesus, for his own person is still in the camp with his poor soldier. I see the cross is tied with Christ's hand to the end of an honest profession; we are but fools to try to untie Christ's knot. When I consider the comforts of God, I would not consent to sell or mortgage my short life-tenure of the cross of the Lord Jesus. I know that Christ bought with his own blood a right to sanctified and blessed crosses, in as much as they blow me over the water to my long-desired home; and it were not good that Christ should be the buyer and I the seller. I know time and death shall take sufferings fairly off my hands. I hope we shall have an honest parting at night, when this cold and frosty afternoon-tide of my difficult and rough day shall be over. Well is my soul with either sweet or sour that Christ has any part or portion in; if he be at the one end of it, it shall be well with me. I shall die before I bring charges against Christ's cross; it shall have my testimonial under my hand, as an honest and saving means of Christ for mortification and faith's growth. I have a stronger assurance since I came over the Forth of the excellence of Jesus than I had before. I am more around him than in him, while I am absent from him in this house of clay. But I would be in heaven for no other cause but to attempt and try what boundless joy it must be, to be over head and ears in my beloved Christ's love. Oh, that fair one has my heart forevermore — but alas, it is too little for him! Oh if it were better and more worthy for his sake! Oh if I might meet with him face to face on this side of eternity, and might have leave to plead with him that I am so hungry and famished here with the meager portion of his love that he gives me! Oh that I might be carver and steward myself at my own will of Christ's love — if I may lawfully wish this — then would I enlarge my vessel, alas a narrow and low soul, and take in a sea of that love. My hunger for it is lean in believing that I shall ever be satisfied with that love; so eagerly would I have what I know I cannot hold. O Lord Jesus, do you delight, do you delight to pine and torment poor souls with the lack of your incomparable love? Oh if I dared call your dispensation cruel! I know you yourself are mercy without either brim or bottom; I know you are a God full to overflowing with mercy and love, but oh alas, little of it comes my way. I die to look far off to that love, because I can get but little of it. But hope says this providence shall before long look more favorably upon poor souls, and upon me also. Grace be with your ladyship's spirit.
Aberdeen, September 10, 1637. Your ladyship's in his sweet Lord Jesus, S. R.
