Friday, September 22
Saturday, Sept. 19.
Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thought turned thus; 'How infinitely sweet it is, to love God, and be all for him!' Upon which it was suggested to me, 'You are not an angel, not lively and active.' To which my whole soul immediately replied, 'I as sincerely desire to love and glorify God, as any angel in heaven.' Upon which it was suggested again, 'But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.' Hereupon instantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ's righteousness, which I could not but exult and triumph in; and I viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my soul even broke with longings that God should be glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven; but instantly the thoughts returned, 'I do not go to heaven to get honour, but to give all possible glory and praise.' Oh, how I longed that God should be glorified on earth also! Oh, I was made for eternity, if God might be glorified! Bodily pains I cared not for; though I was then in extremity, I never felt easier. I felt willing to glorify God in that state of bodily distress, as long as he pleased I should continue in it. The grave appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bones in it; but oh, that God might be glorified! this was the burden of my cry. Oh, I knew I should be active as an angel in heaven; and that I should be stripped of my filthy garments! so that there was no objection.--But, oh to love and praise God more, to please him for ever! this my soul panted after, and even now pants for while I write. Oh that God might be glorified in the whole earth! 'Lord, let thy kingdom come!' I long for a Spirit of of preaching to descend and rest on ministers, that might address the consciences of men with closeness and power. I saw God 'had the residue of the Sprit;' and my soul longed it should be 'poured from on high.' I could not but plead with God for my dear congregation, that he would preserve it, and not suffer his great name to lose its glory in that work; my soul still longing that God might be glorified.
Posted by Rebecca Stark at 8:48 AM