A portion of a letter from John Newton to his beloved wife, Mary. She was away carrying for her father. They were to be together again but the weather became a hindrance. He was disappointed that he would not see her when planned but bemoaned his lack of trust in the Lord more so. The letter was written from his home in Olney, England, January 7, 1776.
I suppose, if Self had his will, he would think his journey to you, of such importance, that no snow should have fallen to retard it, or make it inconvenient. Poor proud creature! What a presumptuous worm, to admit one thought against the appointment of the most High; instead of being duly thankful, that you and I, are safely sheltered, and well provided for, in this severe weather! What hardships are some person suffering this morning, while you, I hope, are sleeping peacefully in your bed, and I am sitting by a good fire. Far be it from us to repine, if in some things our inclinations are a little crossed. It is often, yea always, in mercy when they are. We have seen it so in many instances already, and shall hereafter see that it was so in all.
Letters to a Wife: Written in England from 1755 to 1785, by the author of Cardiphonia (a pen name for John Newton), vol. 2, London, 1793, pp. 192-93.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Far Be It From Us To Repine
Labels:
contentment,
gratitude,
John Newton,
Mary Newton,
pride,
providence,
repining,
Self,
separation,
weather
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