To know the truth

I’ve been reading “My Heart in His Hands” by Sharon James. It’s about the life of Ann Judson, wife of Adoniram Judson, missionaries to Burma in the early 1800s. There are many excerpts from Ann’s letters throughout the book, which have been a blessing and challenge to read. One of them especially caught my attention this morning as I read…

Not long after having been in the country, Ann wrote this letter to her friend Nancy:

“An examination of the subject commenced on board the Caravan. As Mr. Judson was continuing the translation of the New Testament, which he began in America, he had many doubts concerning the word baptize. This, with the idea of meeting the Baptists at Serampore, when he would wish to defend his own sentiments, induced a more thorough examination of the Pedobaptist system. The more he examined, the more his doubts increased; and unwilling as he was to admit it, he was afraid the Baptists were right and he wrong. After we arrived at Calcutta, his attention was turned from this subject to the concerns of the mission, and the difficulties with government. But as his mind was still uneasy, he again renewed the subject. I felt afraid he would become a Baptist, and frequently urged the unhappy consequences if he should. But he said his duty conpelled him to satisfy his own mind, and embrace those sentiments which appeared most concordant with Scripture. I always took the Pedobaptist side in reasoning with him, even after I was as doubtful of the truth of that system as he.

We left Serampore to reside in Calcutta a week or two before the arrival of our brethren; and as we had nothing in particular to occupy our attention, we confined it exclusively to this subject. We precured the best authors on both sides, compared them with the Scriptures, examined and re-examined the sentiments of Baptists and Pedobaptists, and were finally compelled, from a conviction of truth, to embrace those of the former. Thus, my dear Nancy, we are confirmed Baptists, not because we wished to be, but because truth compelled us to be.

We have endeavoured to count the cost, and be prepared for the many severe trials resulting from this change of sentiment. We anticipate the loss of reputation, and of the affection and esteem of many of our American friends. But the most trying circumstances attending this change, and that which has caused most pain, is the separation which must take place between us and our dear missionary associates. Although we are attached to each other, and should doubtless live very happily together, yet the brethren do not think it best we should unite in one mission. These things, my dear Nancy, have caused us to weep and pour out our hearts in prayer to Him whose directions we so much wish and need. We feel that we are alone in the world, with no real friend but each other, no one on whom we can depend but God.”

Doesn’t the sacrifice and commitment of these dear people challenge your heart?

An excerpt from Ann’s diary on September 1st:

“I have been examining  the subject of baptism for some time past, and, contrary to my prejudices and my wishes, am compelled to believe, that believer’s baptism alone is found in Scripture. If ever I sought to know the truth; if ever I looked up to the Father of lights; if ever I gave up myself to the inspired word, I have done so during this investigation. And the result is, that, laying aside my former prejudices and systems, and fairly appealing to the Scriptures, I feel convinced that nothing really  can be said in favour of infant baptism or sprinkling.

We expect soon to be baptized. O may our hearts be prepared for that holy ordinance! And as we are baptized into a profession of Christ, may we put on Christ, and walk worthy of the high vocation wherewith we are called. But in consequence of our performance of this duty, we must make some very painful sacrifices. We must be separated from our dear missionary associates, and labour alone in some isolated spot. We must expect to be treated with contempt, and cast off by many of our American friends – forfeit the character we have in our native land, and probably have to labour for our own support, wherever we are stationed.”

Ann and Adoniram were baptized by immersion in the Lal Bazaar Baptist Chapel in Calcutta on September 6, 1812. William Ward, colleague of William Carey, conducted the service.

John 8:31-32 “…If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed. And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

O Love that will not let me go

Some time back, I came across this arrangement of an old hymn which has some spectacular harmonies. I’ve always loved hearing a capella men’s quartets sing…and simply seeing some young people having fun together while singing for the Lord is a blessing.

1. O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

2. O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

3. O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

4. O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

George Matheson, author of these lyrics, was the eldest of eight children. When he was twenty years old, he became blind, but he studied for the ministry anyway and became a pastor in Edinburgh, Scotland. O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go is the only one of his lyrics that has lasted to this day.

Little Girls

Little girls…as opposed to my typical posts centered around our “little boy.” It’s been a while since I’ve had someone ask me to french-braid their hair…but my two little cousins – Kristen and Jenna (who have beautiful, thick hair) were here the past couple days, and we had a blast with them. Hudson was especially thrilled to have them around as play mates for so long…

Not Called?

“‘Not called!’ did you say? ‘Not heard the call,’ I think you should say. Put your ear down to the Bible, and hear him bid you go and pull sinners out of the fire of sin. Put your ear down to the burdened, agonized heart of humanity, and listen to its pitiful wail for help. Go stand by the gates of hell, and hear the damned entreat you to go to their father’s house and bid their brothers and sisters, and servants and masters not to come there. And then look Christ in the face, whose mercy you have professed to obey, and tell him whether you will join heart and soul and body and circumstances in the march to publish his mercy to the world.”

- W. Booth

A time to laugh

-

…

…

…

this one is for Jackie

and this one is for Ben

One Precious Day

One Precious Day

I may never see tomorrow;

There’s no written guarantee,

And things that happened yesterday

Belong to history.

*

I cannot predict the future,

And I cannot change the past.

I have just the present moment;

I must treat it as my last.

*

I must use this moment wisely

For it soon will pass away,

And be lost to me forever

As a part of yesterday.

*

I must exercise compassion,

Help the fallen to their feet,

Be a friend unto the friendless,

Make an empty life complete.

*

I must make this moment precious,

For it will not come again,

And I can never be content

With things that might have been.

*

Kind words I fail to say this day

May ever be unsaid,

For I know not how short may be

The path that lies ahead.

*

The unkind things I do today

May never by undone,

And friendships that I fail to win

May nevermore be won.

*

I may not have another chance

On bended knee to pray,

And thank my God with humble heart

For giving me this day.

*

I may never see tomorrow,

But this moment is my own.

It’s mine to use or cast aside;

The choice is mine alone.

*

I have just this precious moment

In the sunlight of today,

Where the dawning of tomorrow

Meets the dusk of yesterday.

-Author Unknown

Snowballs

Hudson making snowballs and loading them up in his little red wagon

relaxing in the "snow house" he built