*The same frame of mind I felt with respect to another important affair I have lately had some serious thoughts of: I could say, with the utmost calmness and composure, “Lord, if it be most for thy glory, let me proceed in it: but if thou seest that it will in any wise hinder my usefulness in thy cause, Oh prevent my proceeding: for all I want, is such circumstances as may best capacitate me to do service for God in the world.” Oh, how sweet was this evening to my soul! I knew not how to go to bed; and when got to bed, longed for some way to employ time for God to some excellent purpose.
Saturday, May 17. I walked out in the morning, and felt much of the same frame I enjoyed the evening before: had my heart enlarged in praying for the advancement of the kingdom of Christ, and found the utmost freedom in leaving all my concerns with God.
*I find discouragement to be an exceeding hindrance to my spiritual fervency and affection: but when God enables me to find that I have done something for him, this animates me, so that I could break through all hardships, undergo any labours, and nothing seems too much either to do or suffer. But Oh, what a death it is, to strive, and strive; to be always in a hurry, and yet do nothing. Alas, alas, that time flies away, and I do so little for God!
Lord’s-day, May 18. I felt my own utter insufficiency for my work: God made me to see, that I was a child; yea, that I was a fool. I discoursed both parts of the day, from Revelation iii. 20. “Behold I stand at the door, and knock.” God gave me freedom and power in the latter part of my (forenoon’s) discourse, although in the former part of it, I felt peevish and provoked with the unmannerly behaviour of the white people, who crouded in between my people and me. But blessed be God I got those shackles off before the middle of my discourse, and was favoured with a sweet frame of spirit in the latter part of the exercise: was full of love, warmth, and tenderness, in addressing my dear people.—In the intermission-season I could not but discourse to my people on the kindness and patience of Christ in standing and knocking at the door.—In the evening, I was grieved that I had done so little for God. Oh that I could be a flame of fire in the service of my God!
[♦]*Thursday, May 22. In the evening I was in a frame somewhat remarkable: I had apprehended for several days, that it was a design of providence I should settle among my people; and had in my own mind began to make provision for it: and yet was never quite pleased with the thoughts of being confined to one place. Nevertheless I seemed to have some freedom, because the congregation was one that God had enabled me to gather from among Pagans. For I never could feel any freedom to “enter into other men’s labour,” and settle where the “gospel was preached before;” God has never given me any liberty in that respect, either since or for some years before I began to preach. But God having succeeded my labours, in gathering a church among these Indians, I was ready to think, it might be his design to give me a quiet settlement. And this, considering the late frequent failure of my spirits, and the need I stood in of some agreeable society, and my great desire of enjoying conveniencies for profitable studies, was not altogether disagreeable to me. And although I still wanted to go about far and wide, in order to spread the blessed gospel among benighted souls: yet I never had been so willing to settle for more than five years past, as I was in the foregoing part of this week. But now these thoughts seemed to be wholly dashed to pieces; not by necessity, but of choice: for it appeared to me, that God’s dealings towards me had fitted me for a life of solitariness and hardship; it appeared to me I had nothing to do with earth, and consequently nothing to lose, by a total renunciation of it: and it appeared just right, that I should be destitute of house and home, and many comforts, which I rejoiced to see others of God’s people enjoy. The same time I saw so much the excellency of Christ’s kingdom, and the infinite desirableness of its advancement in the world, that it swallowed up all my other thoughts; and made me willing to be a pilgrim or hermit in the wilderness, to my dying moment, if I might thereby promote the blessed interest of the great Redeemer. And if ever my soul presented itself to God for his service, without any reserve of any kind, it did so now. The language of my thoughts (although I spake no words) now was, “Here I am, Lord, send me: send me to the ends of the earth; send me to the rough, the savage Pagans of the wilderness; send me from all that is called comfort in earth! send me even to death itself, if it be but in thy service, and to promote thy kingdom.” And at the same time I had as quick and lively a sense of the value of worldly comforts, as ever I had; but saw them infinitely overmatched by the worth of Christ’s kingdom, and the propagation of his blessed gospel. The quiet settlement, the certain place of abode, the tender friendship, which I thought I might be likely to enjoy, appeared as valuable to me, considered absolutely, as ever before: but considered comparatively, they appeared nothing; compared with an enlargement of Christ’s kingdom, they vanished like the stars before the rising sun. And the comfortable accommodations of life appeared valuable, yet I did surrender myself, soul and body, to the service of God, and promotion of Christ’s kingdom; though it should be in the loss of them all. I was constrained, and yet chose to say, “Farewell, friends and earthly comforts, the dearest of them all, if the Lord calls for it; adieu, adieu; I’ll spend my life to my latest moments, in caves and dens of the earth, if the kingdom of Christ may thereby be advanced.” I found extraordinary freedom at this time in pouring out my soul to God, for his cause; and especially that his kingdom might be extended among the Indians; and I had a strong hope that God would do it. I continued wrestling with God in prayer for my dear little flock here; and more especially for the Indians elsewhere; as well as for dear friends in one place and another; till it was bed-time, and I feared I should hinder the family. But Oh, with what reluctancy did I find myself obliged to consume time in sleep! I longed to be as a flame of fire, continually glowing in the divine service, preaching and building up Christ’s kingdom, to my latest, my dying moment.
[♦] asterisk added per Errata
Friday, May 23. In the morning I was in the same frame of mind. The glory of Christ’s kingdom so much outshone the pleasure of earthly accommodations and enjoyments, that they appeared comparatively nothing. My soul was melted in secret, and I found myself [♦]divorced from any part in this world so that in those affairs that seemed of the greatest importance, in the present life, and those wherein the tender powers of the mind are most sensibly touched, I could only say, “The will of the Lord be done.” Just the same that I felt the evening before, I now felt the same freedom in prayer for the people of my charge, for the propagation of the gospel among the Indians, for the enlargement of Zion in general, and my dear friends in particular; and longed to burn out in one continued flame for God. If ever I filled up a day with study and devotion, I was enabled to fill up this day.
[♦] “devorced” replaced with “divorced”
Lord’s-day, May 25. There was some degree of divine power attending the word of God. Sundry wept and appeared considerably affected: and one who had long been under spiritual trouble, obtained clearness and comfort, and appeared to “rejoice in God her Saviour.”
I have reason to hope, that God has lately brought home to himself sundry souls who had long been under spiritual trouble: though there have been but few instances of persons lately awakened. And those comforted of late, seem to be brought in, in a more silent way, neither their concern nor consolation being so remarkable, as appeared among those wrought upon in the beginning.