Believe me, dear madam, I take a deep interest in your spiritual
welfare, and I earnestly hope your confidence in God will not fail, on
account of your present desolate state. As the winter plunges still
deeper the roots of the trees in the earth, so the wintry state of the
soul plunges it deeper in humiliation. Remember the confidence of Job,
"Although he slay me, I will trust in him." Although stripped of all
consolation, and left in the desolation of nothingness, you may yet
rejoice in God--out of, and separate from, self. Let the earth be
stripped of her foliage; let neither flowers nor fruit appear; yet _God
is_, therefore you may be happy. The mother loves to sacrifice herself
for her child, and finds her life in what affords it happiness; thus
die to self, in relation to God.
When your weaknesses rise up before you, when you would weep over some
error in judgment, or some unguarded expression, do as the little
child, who having fallen into the mud, carries its hands to its mother,
who cheerfully wipes them, and consoles him after the fall. Can you
not believe God loves you, as much as you love the little one enfolded
in your arms? Does he not say, "A mother may forget, yet I will never
forget thee!"
The discovery of your weakness and emptiness, is an evidence of God's
love; and while it is ground for humiliation, it is also of
thanksgiving. When it pleases God to fill this void with his grace, it
is cause of thankfulness; but if we realized at all times this
fullness, we should be in danger of appropriating the grace of God to
ourselves. Thus, our times of desolation are necessary, and we should
accept them joyfully, as a portion of the bread our father gives us.
Yours in tender sympathy.