Letter 082a Isleworth, 1 September 1876 Mijn oog o ween niet meer, maar houd uw tranen,
Mijn ziele, treur niet meer, maar bid, maar bid, mijn ziel.
[Mine eye, oh weep no more, but hold your tears,
My soul, mourn no more, but pray, but pray, my soul.]
Dear Theo,
Thanks for the letter I received this morning. There are hours and days and periods in life when God hides His countenance, as it were; but for those who love God those times, those sad times, are not wholly devoid of God, but as if they were full of prophecies for the future and full of voices from the past, 鈥渟o far the Lord has led you,鈥?鈥渃herish the old faith again.鈥?p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> If things you had not expected should happen to you, strengthen in yourself the sorrowing for God, and the voice, 鈥淎bba, Father.鈥?p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> It was an autumn day when I stood on the steps before Mr. Provily鈥檚 school, watching the carriage in which Pa and Mother were driving home. One could see the little yellow carriage far down the road 鈥?wet with rain and with spare trees on either side 鈥?running through the meadows.
The grey sky above it all was mirrored in the pools.
And about a fortnight later I was standing in the corner of the playground when someone came and told me that a man was there, asking for me; I knew who it was, and a moment later I fell on Father鈥檚 neck. What I felt then, could not it have been 鈥渂ecause ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father鈥? It was a moment in which we both felt we had a Father in heaven; for Father too looked upward, and in his heart there was a greater voice than mine, crying, 鈥淎bba, Father.鈥?p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> (Try to send me the page from Michelet.) [Written in the margin] Do you ever go to Communion? They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.
Between that moment and the present there lie years of exile. 鈥?There is a phrase that accompanies us, and seems to grow up with us 鈥?sorrowful yet always rejoicing. There is the prayer for a mother for her children, a prayer which is very powerful, for the prayer of the righteous has great power:
Father, I pray unto Thee not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil.
There is the faithful hand of the father which blessed us when we left the parental home.
And then, boy, as I told you before, there is a strong craving for the day when He will no longer remember the sins of my youth. Who rejoices in grey hairs? As far as the east is from the west, so far I shall remove your transgressions from you [Ps. 103:12]. 鈥淭hough your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.鈥?p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> Whoever doth not hate his own life cannot be a disciple of Christ [Luke. 14:20]. Once Pa sent me this:
Zucht tot heiliging Wie zal voor immer en volkomen ons bevrijden Van 鈥榯 lichaam dezer daad gebogen onder 鈥榯 juk鈥?p style="line-height:25px;text-indent:32px"> [Translation of the whole poem]
CRAVING FOR SANCTITY Who shall deliver me completely and forever From the body of this deed; bowed down beneath the yoke,
How long shall I have to fight against myself Before I can tear this heart away from the service of sin?
I had promised my God that He should be called my God,
That I should follow Him with undivided mind; I was tried 鈥?and my oath was forgotten; I was tempted 鈥?and my foot wavered.
No, not with my own strength shall I learn to conquer 鈥? Confess your weakness, O my soul, and self-deceit, begone!
The Father shall fashion the child鈥檚 heart; The Master shall be the guiding spirit of the pupil.
Well then, father! Let Thy love make me capable; My Master, take my hand, and show me Thy banner.
I stood alone 鈥?and fell; now we go together.
I broke down 鈥?Thou fightest for me and I am victorious.
Only now do I feel strong, now that I feel I am weak,
Powerless in myself, all-powerful in the Lord!
Let sin tempt, let angry passions churn,
Thou, God in me! strikest down all enemies.
I am sad, but it is a godly grief,
A cloud of night, but edged with the heavenly red of dawn; I weep, O God! but with joy in my heart; I bow my head, but, Father, onto thy lap.
Who rejoices in grey hairs? Who can look behind it, like Felix Holt did behind the word failure? Who is there to see when the first years of life, life of youth and adolescence, life of worldly enjoyment and vanity will perforce wither 鈥?and they shall, even as the blossom falls from the tree 鈥?and vigorous new life shoots up, the life of love unto Christ Who is importunate and of sorrowing that is unrepenting, unto God; how then in our close dependence on God, and in the unmistakable and keen sensation of it, we find more favour in His eyes, which are too pure to see evil, and He can and will entrust His Holy Spirit more safely to our weakness, His Holy Spirit, Which grants life, and urges us to do good works; who rejoices in grey hairs? Who is sorrowful yet always rejoicing, chastised but not slain, to die but lo! we live 鈥?oh, who rejoices in falling and rising again, long-suffering and meek? 鈥?who rejoices in the green wood of the straight pines and cedars, and ivy and holly and moss in winter? 鈥?Withered wood does give more heat, a bright fire and light, when it is kindled, than green wood. 鈥淭here is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear鈥︹