Chapter X: Letter X: Valley of Achor, January 1, 1818

Mr. & Mrs. W. R—T.

Grace be onto you and peace. I have often admired the grace of our Lord Jesus in its freedom, in its sovereignty, and in its power, in our complete and eternal salvation—this you and I shall have to bless God for, to all eternity; and if you was snatched away by death this moment, you would be ready to praise and adore God for it—and surely our fitness for a better world is to be enabled upon earth to give the glory due to his name. No doubt you will most readily unite with me in this particular, that it requires great grace to support and uphold a man in great difficulties, but while the left hand of God is laid upon him, does not the right hand of grace support, and at times console and cheer his heart. Perhaps this is the meaning of that important text, “His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.” This is the grace I now need. I will not trouble you with a list of my sorrows, but can assure you they are greater than I ever did, or ever can tell any one in the world. Satan is busy in raking up all my faults, from childhood. Carnal reason thinks God deals very hard with me. Sense can see no further than to-day, and suggests I shall die beneath my load. Fancy paints out a thousand troubles I may never see; while unbelief is ready to give the lie to every promise in the Bible, and wants to persuade me to give up praying, and abandon myself to despair. Thus I am tried every day, and much deeper now than when I first entered this Valley. But, hark! the voice of love and mercy sounds from the covenant of grace, “For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies I will gather thee. I will correct thee in measure, but thou shalt never be forgotten of me. I will deliver thee, but the times and seasons the Father hath put in his own power.” And then another voice sounds from Calvary, “I have blotted out, as a cloud, thy sins—return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.” Here faith listens, and asks, What _me_ Lord? Yes, you, by name. Then I reply, Lord there may be others of my name. True; but the Persons for whom I entered into covenant, for whom I became incarnate, for whom I obeyed the Law, for whom I suffered, and for whom the rich blessings of the Gospel is provided, are _sinners_—this is your nature, your action, and your name, and I have denominated you by the very names you have given yourself, from your own convictions and feelings. Bring in hither the poor, the halt, the blind, the lame, and the needy. Surely I must come under some of these; and according to different states so we are named.

Here I beg my dear sister R’s most particular attention. I know she is a patient in Free-grace Hospital, and I want her assured that her case is not forgotten by the most blessed Physician of Souls, who has said, “I am the Lord that healeth thee.” Convinced of our state as sinners, we feel poor indeed—without spiritual money, or cloaths, or home, or friends!—this is real poverty—the charge brought against the Church at Laodicea, “Thou knowest not that thou art poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked.” This charge belongs to hypocrites, and not to a poor sinner, whose emptiness is daily felt, and perhaps faith is too weak to draw much comfort from the Promises—and God the Spirit has shewn you the darkness of nature. Now God does not say you are blind, but he calls us by the name we give ourselves. Hence, God says, “Hear ye deaf, and look ye blind, that ye may see.” And because every little makes us start, or keeps us back from praying, hoping, and believing, we are called the halt, and the lame; and as our sins too often rise and gain the ascendancy over us, that we cannot exercise strong confidence in Jesus, and his work, so we are called the maimed. Sin and Satan has maimed us, and wicked fellows have thrown stones at us, as Christ’s sheep, and maimed us: and I can assure you there is not any thing that Jesus has said or done, but it is the blessed office of the Holy Ghost to shew us our need of it; and if he sets us longing for it, travailing in soul, agonizing in spirit, and most sincerely desirous of the blessing, he will communicate it, for he has said, “Shall I cause to travail, and not bring forth? Shall I bring to the birth, and shut the womb?” You are longing to bring forth the exercise of precious faith, lively hope, cheerful confidence; and you are at times longing for the salvation of God, and you will not be disappointed. But do not be alarmed—even these longing desires may be in a great measure suspended—this has often alarmed me, till some Promise or a sweet Sermon, or a precious Hymn, have set me longing again; or else some new and heavy cross has come on. This sets me to confessing, to searching, to reading to humility, to waiting, and standing on my watch tower, to hear what God the Lord will say. I hear what Satan, the world, and mistaken possessors say, not what carnal reason, unbelief, and sense has to say—these all want to swear away my eternal life; they are not the judges of the court; they dont understand the nature of the case; and it is a man’s privilege to appeal from a low to a higher court; thus did Paul and lost his head, thus did I and lost my liberty. But though this may be the case in temporals, yet it is not so in spirituals; all judgment is committed to Christ, because he is the Son of Man; he is the judge in the court of mercy, and I will hear what the Lord will say. Moses has condemned me, conscience has said Amen to the sentence, justice demands satisfaction, the law is broken, guilt is great, Satan is busy, hell appears open, heaven shut, and the soul trembles, and with all the heart exclaims, God be merciful to me, to me a sinner! And amidst all, will you believe it, faith is waiting for the sentence from the judge; and when it is cut him down, O justice—take him, O Satan—close upon him, O hell. No, not so, but, poor sinner look up, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee—but how, Lord? and he shewed him his hands and his side. I trust my dear Brother has had many such views, not only when liberty first came, but many times after, when the whole work has been as it were dead, and lost; yet there has been many revivals again, and no doubt will, till death. I hope you are both well. I only want another piece of a broiled fish, and of a honey-comb, (John, 21) both are gifts. A common blessing in a kind providence, is a fish, and grace to enjoy it, is an honey-comb. Though to poor ministers, a soul is compared to a fish, and if they are led to ask for the salvation of a soul, or for success in their ministry when they go a fishing—surely the Lord will not give them a Scorpion, that is, a reprobate. The Lord grant we may be found among the good fish at the end of the world, when the gospel net will be full, and the grand separation take place. Till then may we swim in the ocean of mercy, with the fins of faith and love. The Lord bless thee with every needful grace.

Your’s, truly,
_Ruhamah_.