[To M. B.] Wiston Park, July 1828.
Since I wrote last I have again been greatly exercised, insomuch as almost to lose my sleep - being quite broken-hearted, and despairing of the help of God, although I have lately experienced so much of his goodness. I feel greatly ashamed to write it, but it is too true. I said, Let me not displease thee by corning so often with my troubles, nor grieve thee with my continual complaints. In this I found some compunction, and was satisfied I did not offend nor displease the Lord by so doing, but that he did attend to my cry. This morning, in my employer's carriage, I was meditating on my want of patience, my murmuring thoughts, and discontented feelings, and all such like misery; and I could not help saying to myself, Lord, by thy holy fear, and the Spirit helping my infirmities, I would not give place one moment to these things; and these words were sweetly and powerfully whispered in my ears, "MORE THAN CONQUERORS, through him that hath loved us." This broke my heart; I could not help weeping, though in so public a place, and knew not how or where to hide my face. Here I saw the inhabitants of the world less than a drop of a bucket, and myself safe in Christ Jesus; the cross and the crown closely bound together; tribulation in the world, but peace in him. The world is mad; I should be worse, if not thus violently plucked as a brand from the burning. Mine is a painful path just now, but surrounded with mercies and blessings - no frowns from a gracious God in Christ; many sorrows and much grief, but such indescribable tenderness and pity as passes all conception. If I had not found it so, I must have sunk into despair.
I would by all means entreat you to cleave to God; let his word be your rich treasure, and by that he will instruct and entertain you. How sweet it is to have communion with God, and for his word to look at you, with helps and smiles, in every direction!
What the Lord is about to do with me I know not. I desire at all times to remember the word - Nevertheless. Let me pray for what I may, I would wish, "Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done."
Yours &c. J. B.