There Is A God In Heaven Who

I Longed That Those Who, I Have Reason To Think, Owe Me Ill Will, Might Be Eternally Happy. It Seemed Refreshing To Think Of Meeting Them In Heaven, How Much Soever They Had Injured Me On Earth: Had No Disposition To Insist Upon Any Confession From Them, In Order To Reconciliation, And The Exercise Of Love And Kindness To Them. Oh! It Is An Emblem Of Heaven Itself, To Love All The World With A Love Of Kindness, Forgiveness, And Benevolence.

I Think My Soul Never Was In Such An Agony Before. I Felt No Restraint, For The Treasures Of Divine Grace Were Opened To Me. I Wrestled For Absent Friends, For The Ingathering Of Souls, For Multitudes Of Poor Souls, And For Many That I Thought Were The Children Of God, In Many Distant Places. I Was In Such An Agony, For Half An Hour Before Sunset, Till Near Dark, That I Was All Over Wet With Sweat: But Yet Is Seemed To Me That I Had Wasted Away The Day, And Had Done Nothing. Oh!, My Dear Savior Did Sweat Blood For Poor Souls!

Further, Take Heed That You Faithfully Perform The Business You Have To Do In The World, From A Regard To The Commands Of God; And Not From An Ambitious Desire Of Being Esteemed Better Than Others.

My Desires Seem Especially To Be After Weanedness From The World, Perfect Deadness To It, And That I May Be Crucified To All Its Allurements. My Soul Desires To Feel Itself More Of A Pilgrim And A Stranger Here Below, That Nothing May Divert Me From Pressing Through The Lonely Desert, Till I Arrive At My Father's House.

The Whole World Appears To Me Like A Huge Vacuum, A Vast Empty Space, Whence Nothing Desirable, Or At Least Satisfactory, Can Possibly Be Derived; And I Long Daily To Die More And More To It; Even Though I Obtain Not That Comfort From Spiritual Things Which I Earnestly Desire.