Written originally by an anonymous clergyman in the early 1800's:
I move best with a gentle wind. A high-spirited heart paired with full sails is dangerous, so I prepare myself for a quieter way of living. I don’t want much, and I actively pray against wanting much. My work — my calling — is my study. I ask for whatever genuinely serves that calling, and does not distract me from it. Beyond that, I want nothing more.
Because I live somewhat withdrawn, I can see something that busy, burdened lives often miss: how the everyday demands of life slowly, almost imperceptibly, pull the heart away from God and bury it in self.
Those caught up in constant cares and distractions rarely notice this happening.
I have come to see that I truly need everything God gives me, and that I lack nothing in what God withholds. There has never been a hardship — no matter how painful — that I did not later recognize as necessary. Whether something is taken away from me or never given at all, God eventually quiets my heart in himself, even without it.
I place all my concerns into the Lord’s hands and live securely, trusting the care and wisdom of my heavenly Father. You know my situation: my path often feels blocked, thorny, and darker by the day. And yet, I do not distrust my good God in the slightest. In fact, I live more peacefully without many things by faith than I believe I would if I possessed them.I am convinced that the Lord deals kindly with me by teaching me to believe for his gifts before I receive them. When they do come, they will be like Isaacs—true sons of laughter. The more reason is confused and left without answers, the more freely faith throws itself upon the faithfulness of God.
I have learned this clearly: when my faith is steady, nothing can disturb me. When my faith wavers, nothing can support me. If I get tangled up in relying on resources, plans, or people, I quickly lose my way and find no resolution. But when I rest in God and leave it to God to act in God's own time and manner, I am at peace. I can sit down and sleep, trusting a promise, even when a thousand troubles surround me.
Because of this, I do not try to calculate the future in advance. I walk with God one day at a time. Today has enough trouble of its own. Between the demands of my calling and the constant work of guarding my heart, I have no time to exhaust myself with “what ifs” and imagined futures.
As for the state of the world, it is dark and stormy indeed. But why should that shake us? Faith remains anchored in the middle of the waves, confident that God’s promises will be fulfilled, even through upheaval, confusion, and apparent impossibility.
This is the God I depend upon — the God who is ours forever, and who will guide us even to death. At times I feel as though I am lying calmly in God's arms, much as Luther once described himself when surrounded by trouble. I am not overly anxious; I leave Christ to take care of it. I know that prophecies are obscure, that understanding is limited, that many have been mistaken, and that human solutions fail again and again. Still, God remains faithful. God who promised is faithful, and God will do what He has said.I believe these dark times are the womb from which a bright morning will be born.
I could say more, but this is enough. My friend, stay close to God. When you do, even a little help from the world will go a long way. Guard your private communion with God, and you will have little to fear.
Make room for private devotion; do not squeeze faith into the margins of your day.
There is a Dutch proverb that says, “Nothing is gained by stealing, and nothing is lost by praying.” Store up all your good in God, so that you can outweigh both the sweetness and bitterness of everything else. Do not waste time anxiously trying to plan ahead for this world. Such schemes never succeed. God will overturn them and work in ways you did not expect. These self-made plans are born of unbelief — I know this from experience.
If people would spend the hours they pour into plotting and strategizing instead in communion with God, and then leave the outcome to him through faith, they would know far more peace and comfort.
I leave you with your God and mine. May the Lord Jesus be with your spirit.
This is a revision of an anonymous tract published in 1810 and included in of Part 1, Chapter 10 of Thomas C. Upham's book The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition 1844), written with the assistance of Microslop CoPilot. The original chapter can be found here: Considerations on the Life of Faith.



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