• “Christ makes it clear that we cannot love both Him and the things that charm and ravish this world. We cannot be dazzled by the images of pop-culture and captivated by the King of all kings” – Leslie Ludy

Letter to Her Mother – Mary Winslow

“my Dearest Mother, October22, 1810.

“… Thank God you are all well; but above all things, I desire to thank and bless His holy name that you and Bella are so wonderfully brought to know yourselves, and to know Him whom to know is life everlasting. Blessed be God, who passes by so many, and who has designed to look upon us who were lying as others, dead in sin. Infinite in sovereignty, infinite in goodness, infinite in power! why He passes by some and calls others, is only known to Himself; but there is a time coming when we shall know even as we are known, and be enabled to see that He acts consistently with his goodness and mercy. All we have to do in this vale of tears is to press forward to the glorious prize He has placed in . our view, looking continually to Jesus, trusting not to our own strength, but waiting in humble dependence upon Him for all our sufficiency to carry us on, and to enable us to ‘hold but unto the end. He that has promised is true and faithful to His word. Oh, that we may be found like His beloved handmaiden of old, sitting at His feet. His eye is ever upon His dear, dependent flock; He knows all our need, and has promised to supply it. But for these things He will be inquired of. It is at a throne of grace Jesus makes Himself known to His saints, comforts them, revives their drooping spirits with a view of those blessings He basin store for them. This world is not our home—we look for a better. His people are pilgrims here on earth, and generally are a poor and afflicted people. They have not their portion here as thousands have,—their portion is to come. Their names are written in the book of life, and were written before the foundation of the world. They are as dear to Him as the apple of His eye. Then what have we to fear? nothing; but everything to hope. Blessed be God who sent His only Son to pay our debt, to rescue us from the power of Satan, to cleanse us from all our guilt, to clothe our souls with His righteousness, and thereby give us a rightful claim to a crown of glory. Blessed be that dear Son who condescended to come amongst us, to assume our nature, and to do for us what we had no power to do for ourselves. And blessed be the Holy Spirit, who in infinite mercy forms and prepares us for the heavenly kingdom. I am delighted to find dear B has such clear views of the doctrine of the Atonement. And oh, that they may reach her heart, and influence all her thoughts, words, and actions. My last letter will have informed you that the children’s illness was occasioned by the measles, and my precious husband’s from a rupture of a blood-vessel in the lungs. These things altogether, have been a severe trial to mind and body, but I have been in a most wonderful manner supported under them. I have gone through enough to kill a dozen women stronger than myself; but the Lord has fulfilled the promise, and given me strength according to my day.

“On Monday evening I heard a very popular minister, who was to preach at a chapel in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. I waited some time until the doors were opened, and then obtained a seat near the pulpit. But although the place was large, every part was densely crowded, and people standing in the aisles. The preacher was Alexander Fletcher, from Scotland, a young man of about twenty-two. But oh, how zealous, fervent, and inexpressibly great and sweet in explaining the glad tidings of salvation! His discourse was addressed to children particularly, and he has such uncommon power in directing and fixing the attention of both old and young, that I do not believe the eyes of either were off him during the whole service. This good steward of Jesus preaches almost every evening in some part or other of London. Oh, when I see such servants of the Lord spending their strength, their lives, their all for God, and counting it nothing so that they might win Christ, I look at myself and mourn over my unprofitableness, and desire to lie low m the dust. This good, zealous man of God, though followed by crowds, appears humble and lowly, like his blessed Master. Oh, my dear mamma, how I long to have you with me, where you may hear the blessed gospel preached in a thousand places. How precious it is in the ear of the redeemed! It is the soul’s food, and we grow lean and lukewarm without it. May every covenant blessing attend you, is the prayer of your affectionate daughter, “M. W.”


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