May 4, 1677 In the Year of Our Lord

God is good. It has been a year since I have been set free from my captivity from the natives. Joseph is now a minister in Connecticut and I believe that our family has all but completely healed. We talk from time to time of the experiences we had in that time but do not have much bitterness towards those natives. Joseph has taught me that I must forgive them, and pray for their souls. I am learning how to do this; it is difficult to pray for a people who tortured you for so long and at who's hands you had so much suffering. It is hard but with God's grace, I am learning. I hope to soon begin publishing my account, as I believe the experience to be unique, if not informative to the general public. I am still searching for someone to help me with that. We shall see if the Lord wills that to unfold.

May 4, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I am blessed beyond understanding. God hears the prayers of cry out to him. My story is evidence of that. I have been given both of my children! My family is together again, save for little Sarah. We are not yet used to the fact that she is gone, and perhaps never will be. The Lord has brought me and mine out of the pit and has placed us amidst loving brothers and sisters who are tender-hearted and compassionate. I believe that there will be much healing that must go on but, as we are together, we can hold each other up.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation-so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble? When evil people come to devour me, when my enemies and foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. Though a mighty army surrounds me, my heart will not be afraid. Even if I am attacked, I will remain confident." Psalm 27:1-3

God is good.

May 2, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I am overjoyed. I am almost to be returned home! I have quit the Indians and tomorrow will reunite with my husband in Boston. God is good. I lived among the most savage of beings and prayed daily for deliverance and His intervention to redeem me. He does not forget those He loves. I am full of awe for the love and faithfulness of God. I pray that I can share my story with all those who would hear; to express how , "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..even there your hand will guide me." (Psalm 23)

With this joy however, comes sorrow. I know not of my children and whether they are even still alive. I have not heard tell of either of them in quite a while and it will be more than difficult to be reunited to Joseph and not hear of them.

Oh God, thank you for this blessing. You are more than good. There is nothing I have that You have not given to me. I ask that You would bring home my children as well. Be with them where ever they are.

May 1, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

With the time that Mr. Hoar has been gone, I have done much reflection on these past few months. God provides, and not just for those who follow Him. As Matthew 5:45 says, "For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike." He brought nourishment to these heathens, and they would in turn go and desolate His children. Often times this nourishment was repulsive to me; being found in the most loathsome places. They would eat anything that was living; often finding animals such as beaver, tortoise, frog, squirrel, dog, skunk, rattlesnake, and even the bark of a tree. All of this they took to be their customary food, but it took me quite a while to not think them animals themselves for eating all these.

I do not understand the native people. They mourn for their own losses but cannot see how I might want to mourn mine. There is no empathetic bone in their evil bodies. They grip Colonial towns by the throat and think nothing of it. They boasted in these victories, proud at how easily they had destroyed a town and it's inhabitants.

Can they not see what they are doing through my eyes? Do they not understand that they would feel sorrow if the English were to move in on their territories and destroy their homes? I am tired of this place. I am ready to leave.

April 30, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord-Prayers

God, teach me to surrender to your will in this. I cannot see why you should not want me to be free, yet help me to accept whatever happens. I do not know how life with these Natives would be if I were not to be rescued. I am tired and worn out, and have not had a hope to hold onto in quite some time. I know that You promise to be with us and to deliver us from evil, yet it's also hard to trust whatever decision You make. Give my husband wisdom to know what to do; I pray that the funds will come together that I might be redeemed. Be with my children and comfort their souls wherever they might be. Thank you for your love. I love you.

April 30, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I cannot sleep. It has been three nights since my body has rested itself. Mr. Hoar is gone back home, to tell the council of the decision of my master and to express his terms to them. I am so afraid of the unknown. I am afraid of the littlest detail not coming together for my deliverance; it is often that God leaves us in the dark when deliverance is nearest. Thoughts of my time spent with these natives threaten to become reality for the rest of my life. I have no news of late of my children and no real confirmation that Joseph will be able to pay the twenty shillings. I pray that God's will be done, yet I will that His and mine be aligned. I want so much to be home and rid of these woods; to live amidst the friends I once had.

April 28, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I write this to point out yet another reason why these natives are heathens, and if only they would learn more about the faith we hold, and the God we serve, they would be better off.

A man, by the name of Mr. John Hoar, had come from Massachusetts and was a delegate from my husband. He came bearing gifts and to seek my redemption on behalf of Joseph. Here was a display like I had never seen before. Mr. Hoar brought lots of food and trinkets, as well as tobacco and alcohol. He gave me a pound of tobacco and this I sold for nine shillings. The natives could not get their hands on that wretched product fast enough. My master would not take the delegation from Mr. Hoar but took the alcohol that was brought and drank it in it's entirety. This was the first time I'd seen a Native drunk, which is a bit surprising considering their nature. However, he proceeded to chase his squaw when she resisted his commands. Having an older squaw, he ran to her and occupied himself for the night. This caused quite a stir around the camp and I could not help but think of how all of that could have been avoided if only he knew some responsibility and self control. For Puritan society teaches both of these and Mr. Increase Mather states it this way: "Drink is in itself a good creature of God, and to be received with thankfulness, but the abuse of drink is from Satan; the wine is from God, but the Drunkard is from the Devil." Again, I am reminded of just how close these natives live to the Devil himself.

April 27, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

With the arrival of the Christian Indians, a letter from the council concerning the captives also arrived. A meeting was held and I was asked how much my husband would give to redeem me. I sat among their circle and answered their questions. I had a tough decision to make. If I said that he would pay too little than they liked, the chance for my redemption might never come again. It it was a large amount, I don't know if my husband would have enough to pay it. I had to think things over for a bit but meekly offered an amount of twenty pounds, but asked if they would be gracious and take less. This they ignored (why am I surprised?), and sent a message to Boson to say that for twenty pounds I would be redeemed. I hope that my husband can take this amount well, and that it is not too much. How I long for his answer to be swift. I dream of a large band of Englishmen riding in and throwing the money to the ground, only to scoop me up and take me home to the people I love and live among. I can almost hear the voice of the Psalms singing to me: "I heard and unknown voice say, 'Now I will take the load from your shoulders; I will free your hands from their heavy tasks.'" (81.5-6)

April 24, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I have met just yesterday two Christian Indians. I did not realize that there were such, but they proved to me through their speech, conversation, and countenance that they were so. There names were Tom and Peter. Upon finding them to be Christians, I lost my composure and wept. How good it was to see people who held the same beliefs that I did, who could identify with the struggle to continue trusting in God through difficulty. I couldn't explain this to them, for my words were lost in tears. After some time I gathered myself and asked if they had news of my husband or my friends. They replied that all were well but "melancholy." I wanted so desperately to send messengers back to tell them I was well, that they should not worry but no chance came. Tom and Peter brought me two biscuits and a pound of tobacco, which I quickly gave away. The Indians were desperate to get the tobacco. When I had given it all away, some Indians inquired after it and were furious that it was gone. Tobacco has taken the Native population here in the colonies by storm. I am told that before the colonists first brought it to America, it was not used widely. However, now Virginia grows it quite en mass, selling it to the Natives often more than they do to the colonists. I am glad to have rid myself of that dirty habit, to have distanced myself from tobacco since my taking. I hope desperately not to lose this habit in the future, as it is quite uncustomary and is looked down upon. I am quite glad of the circumstance to be rid of it.

April 20, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I am glad for the past couple days. I have made a return to my master and he has greeted me well. He asked straight away the last time I had washed and I responded that it had been over a month. He got water for me and bade me wash and gave me a mirror to look in. He then told his squaw to give me food to eat. She handed me beans , meat, and a nut cake. After this, I was told by the squaw who gave me this food, to come and stay with her that night. I did so and she gave me a mat to sleep on and a rug to use as a blanket. I was revived at this and was reminded of a Psalm "He even caused their captors to treat them with kindness." (106.46)

After all of this, an Indian came to me and asked if I would make him three pair of stockings. I did so, spending the time to collect my thoughts about the time I'd spent in the captivity of these natives. After finishing, he gave me a hat and a silk handkerchief. After this, a woman asked me to make a shift, for which I received an apron. "What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord, who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem." (Psalm 84.5)

April 14, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord (evening)

There is a bit of a change in our wigwam tonight. I was forced to go outside last night as they tended to my mistress's papoose who was very sick. It was a long cold wait but after a time, I was invited back into the wigwam, but my mistress was not there, and neither was the child. I fell asleep near the edge without blanket or mat, lying on the cold ground. In the morning I found out that the child had died. They buried the papoose and tonight they had more room in the wigwam and extra food; venison and ground nuts. I could tell that my mistress was distraught and though I'd had a similar experience, I could not bring myself to console her. I had no misgivings about this; my conscience did not conflict me in this.

April 13, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I hate these...creatures. I cannot find it in my heart at this moment to love them, as Christ calls us to. I cannot even identify with them as of this moment. The past few days have rendered me numb toward them. They are surpassing the legends that are told from town to town. The stories of Indian tribes and their devilish activity do not give justice to their fiendish nature.

I lay by the fire on a cold night and a large branch was in the way of the fire, keeping some of the heat from me. I moved it, to warm up. My mistress saw this and moved it back into place. At this, I looked up at her and she threw a handful of ashes into my eyes. I have never felt a burning like I did that night. I couldn't even open my eyes, but had to lay the whole night through with them closed. My tears slowly cleaned out my eyes and with the morning I could see again.

Later, King Philip's maid cam in and asked for a piece of my apron, to make a pouch for her child. I told her no, and my mistress bade me give it. I told her no still and she said that if I did not, she would tear it off of my apron. I responded by saying if that happened, I would tear her coat. At that, my mistress took a stick big enough to kill me and raised it threateningly. She swung, but I moved just in time and gave up the apron in attempt to save my life.

Even later, and most tragically, I came across a boy taken from Springfield who was lying outside a wigwam with dysentery from eating so much blood. They had turned him out on a bitter cold day without food or fire. The boy had nothing on but a shirt and waistcoat. It would melt a heart of stone to see him.

It seems that these people have no souls.

April 9, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I have had a tumultuous day. From extreme excitement to a snuffing of that elation, I have had a long day emotionally. It began on a Sabbath morning. We were on the move again and this time moving more northwards as I understand it. I had heard of prisoners being let go for a ransom sum, that these Indians were more interested in the material worth of a person and might make an exchange. So, with this in mind, I approached my master and asked whether he would "sell" me back to my husband. He answered "Nux," meaning "yes" in their tongue. Yes! I might be reunited with my husband! We lived a comfortable life before this captivity, as I come from a fairly wealthy family. How much this ransom would be, I had yet to procure but this was no matter. I hoped to God that redemption was not far off; that I might be reunited with my family and rid of these despicable creatures once and for all. I had my head in these thoughts for quite some time and with a cheered spirit, I carried my burden as if it were as light as a feather.

However, my elation only lasted a passing moment. My mistress would not go any further, and would stay behind as the rest of the Indians traveled on. She demanded they return for her later. She entreated her husband to let me go with her, and he granted her this permission. I was so angry. She had no reason to take me with her, and I would be moving closer to my husband if I stayed with the group. However, the agreement was already made. It seems that my suffering would have to continue. However, God put this reminder in my head: "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46.10) I confess that my heart was heavy as we left. My master was the closest thing I had to a friend among the Natives, and now he was gone. I was left to the mercy of my master.

I don't know what the immediate future holds. I had hoped to come across my husband but it seems that this is not to be the case. How long will I linger here? How long will I be held captive? The charge to stay behind the group would not have been so harsh if I had not heard that I might be ransomed to my husband.

God give me strength

March 6, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I have met recently a famous chief named King Philip. He is well known among the natives here and holds renown for being a great leader. It is incredible how these natives pay him respect; they cater to his every whim. They brought me across a river in a canoe so I might meet with him. They laughed at me all the while and would not stop making light of my situation, mocking my sorrow. I wept in their presence for the first time; weeping for my children, for my husband, for my lost daughter, for the souls that were lost from Lancaster, and for the evil that seemed to be all around me.

Upon meeting Philip however, I was met with a bit of kindness I had not expected. There was in him a bit of compassion for my situation. He asked me if I might make a shirt for his son, which I agreed to. In return, he paid me a shilling. A shilling! It was a great reminder of my life before this captivity. I was able to use this money to buy some horse flesh and revive myself. Later, he asked me to make a cap for his son as well, and in payment for this, he invited me to dinner. I was served a pancake. Oh how wonderful this tasted! Even though it was made of parched wheat, and fried in bear's grease, I felt at the time that I had never tasted anything sweeter. My good fortune seemed to continue as more of Philip's squaws wanted shirts for their young children, which I did and was given peas and bear meat. I have not eaten this heartily since I was first captured. God is good. As Paul wrote to remind the Corinthian church; "For God is the one who provides seed for the farmer and then bread to eat. In the same way, he will provide and increase your resources..." (9.10)

Perhaps things are beginning to turn around.

March 5, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I have eaten what I never dreamed of. In the first week of my being among these Indians, I hardly ate any food. By the second week however, I was growing faint for want of food and needed nourishment. I was offered their food but could not stomach it; they eat filthy trash for food. However, by the third week, my attitude changed. I cared not what it was, as long as it had nourishment to revive me. I am now eating things that formerly repulsed me. I remember thinking I would starve and die before eating their food, yet now they are more than savory to me. I have, of late, begun to enjoy horse liver. Quite a difference from what I am used to eating.

Several Sabbaths have come and gone, and I am lamenting the fact that we are constantly moving further and further from my home. Many nights we travel and when we rest, I cannot sleep. I am constantly restless and hungry. Today was one of the worst in quite a while. We climbed up many hills and along the banks of a swamp. I thought my legs would give out and break, but God sustained me and gave an extra measure of His strength.

How much longer will this continue?

March 2, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I have of late had occasion to reflect on the circumstances I've been in. I kept coming to the idea of God's sovereignty and His prevailing plan in all of life. I could not come to a good answer as to why this captivity has come to me and why I must endure all this suffering. One of the things that I came upon after thinking this through for quite a while, is that maybe I am to be a light to these Indians. Perhaps my example of perseverance, through the strength of God, will cause them to question what drives me thus. I look at these Indians as they cut trees for timber, as they construct makeshift shelters, and as they prepare what food they've gather, I realize that they are depraved because they are without a savior. If I might introduce them to this God, they might learn of the English ingenuity, industry, and husbandry that we wish for. I might show them, as our Puritan beliefs hold, that they are corrupt and impotent because of their all to familiar morality. Convincing them thus, they will recognize the problem; that they cannot earn their salvation. Then I would show them that they can only rely on the divine gift of faith in Christ for salvation.

All this is too bold for me I fear. To approach my captors with confidence and tell them they need to change their ways would earn me a beating I'm sure. Perhaps God will intervene somehow and cast light on these heathens, guiding them to His truth, for "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." (Rom. 3:23)

February 28, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

After being settled in one place for the past fifteen days, I must say that I had gotten a bit comfortable with the settings of the present. However, we must move on. I had to part with Mary and this was no little task. She again fell to weeping and could not tear herself from me. This tore my heart in two; I had no assurance of seeing her again. I had to place her in the hands of God, and trust that He is in control.

I am reminded again of the barbarity of these people. I came upon a woman who had a horrible end. She had been in horrible condition and was always despairing and lamenting her situation. She pleaded with her captives to let her return home but they did not concede to this. They gathered a large group of Indians about her and they stripped her naked. Setting her in the middle of them, they danced about her and hit her as they did so. After this, they gave her child to her and placed them both into a blazing fire. They burned alive and the mother's cries could just barely be heard over the heathens' hooping and shrieking.

They cannot be human; to not care for a life like that and to take so much pleasure in their torture is not humanly possible. I wish that I could tell them of all the judgement that is going to fall on their heads. I wish they could understand what I know of God. If only they could get these Indians to see the way we live life and how their barbaric activity is so far removed in husbandry. If only...

February 20, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord (evening)

"For the Lord is good. His unfailing love continues forever and his faithfulness continues to each generation." (Psalm 100.5) I have received a bible! God is so merciful and his blessings continue to pour out on me through this trial that I am going through. One of the Indians returning from a skirmish brought plunder with him. One of those things was a bible and he knew I was a Christian woman and that it would be important to me. I took it from him, with an affirmation that the Indians would indeed let me read it, and am rejoicing. I now have God's love letter to His children, complete with all of the promises of love and faithfulness that we cannot live without.

I know that there are other English captives within this camp and I hope to seek them out. I pray now that they will earnestly seek God's deliverance and be faithful to Him. There is not much hope left in this captivity and I want to remind them that God is good, ever with us, and will provide for all our needs. The psalmist again says it best: "Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord." (27.14)

February 20, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I am cheered a bit. I have been able to see my remaining children. I came upon Mary who was at an Indian town not far from where I am. She wept incessantly when I came near and told her of my condition and the death of her sister. Her captives did not approve of this, as she was provoked whenever I was near her. I am so afraid. My children are under the rule of these heathens who have no sense of civilization or culture, who seem to be agents of the Devil and bent on torturing us for enjoyment. I long to know how Mary is handling all of this; how she is coping with the disastrous scenes unfolding before her. I long to hold her close and whisper to her that it will be alright and that God is with us. I want to express to her, as the Psalmist says: "He is your helper and your shield..all you who fear the Lord, trust the Lord! He is your helper and shield." (115:9-11)

I was in this state of contemplation and distress when Joseph came to me. The Lord is indeed good and watches over the way of the righteous. He asked, with tearful eyes, if Sarah was dead. I could not speak but nodded that it was so. He looked at me with the strength of his father and said he had been praying for me; that I would not be troubled when thinking of him. He is indeed growing a heart of strength and love for God. I will pray that through all of this, God will teach his faithfulness to my son.

February 18, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

My Sarah has died. I held her in my arms the last hours of her life and prayed to God for her life, that He might spare her. She did not go easily, but suffered all the while, until the arms of death finally took her from me. Before her passing, the Indians I have been sold to noticed that she was near death. They bade me leave the wigwam and bear my burden outside. She suffered nine days from her wounding, with nothing to refresh her, save a cup of cold water from time to time.

Why is this happening? My family is torn apart and could all be dead, save myself. God has shown himself to be faithful, and to be sovereign in everything. His plan is at work in life and cannot be refuted, so what is his plan and purpose from this? What am I to learn from being with these beasts, these monsters of barbarity? Again, I must turn to the scriptures for truth: "For now we see things imperfectly, as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity." (1 Cor. 13.1) Oh if only I could see clearly now, the plan of the Lord.

February 14 1676 In the Year of Our Lord.

I am somewhat cheered. I have come upon one Robert Pepper, who also was taken captive by the Indians and has spent considerable time with them. He has learned much since being with them and has some advice to offer, that might make things a bit easier for me. For the wound in my side, he recommended oaken leaves to lay upon them. With the blessing of God, it cured me, as it had Robert. It could not have come at a better time; I began to smell the wound in my side as it was infected and was beginning to grow worse. I had hoped to apply this remedy to my little Sarah and thus cure her, but it seems not to work. She moans night and day and those Indians around me warn me to keep her queit, else my chief should bash it in the head. God is gracious however, and I have not had to give up my child to beatings.

God, help me. Even meeting with Robert has not given me a sustaining hope. I need your comfort. Thank You for not leaving my side.

February 11, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord (Evening)

I cannot sleep. I am shaking and trembling, having fallen into a violent fever on account of my wounds. If I am in this state, I cannot imagine, nor would like to, the state my little Sarah is in. She moans and calls out and seems to be losing her strength. With all that I have, I have rocked her back and forth, somehow trying to envelope her in warmth so she might drift to sleep. This is to no avail.

I have to constantly remind myself that I am not alone. The words of the much-loved minister Thomas Shepard remind me of God's presence: "The Lord can never get near enough to His people and thinks He can never get them near enough unto Himself..." Although I do not have anyone to console me, nor hope for what the future might hold, I know that God is here. He has been so in the past and his promises stand true. The Lord spoke to Joshua saying "I will never leave you nor forsake you." (1.5) I cannot but believe that this promise is for me as well.

God give me strength to trust You. Deliver me from evil for your name's sake. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

February 11, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

I am distraught. My spirit is dim and there is not a soul who might brighten them. I am now forced to turn my back on the familiarity of life lived in Lancaster. I am afraid of what will come. I am appalled at the behaviours of these heathens. It further enforces their close relation to the Devil himself. They have performed their celebratory festival, full of drinking, revelry and wicked dancing which is a great sin to our Puritan society. A well-versed man on our beliefs, by the name of Increase Mather, expressed it this way: "It has been proved that such a practice is a Scandalous immorality, and therefore to be removed out of Churches by Discipline, which is the Broom of Christ, whereby he keeps his Churches clean..." This is just one thing that shows how far removed these heathens are from our society, and I can only pray that God will deliver me from them.

I am told that we are to move quickly, for snow is to come and will prove death to all if we do not find shelter for the night. Sarah grows more and more sick; I cannot explain the sorrow I feel at being so powerless to help her. I must trust her to God's hands and "trust in the Lord with all [my] hear and lean not on [my] own understanding." (Prov. 3.5)

February 10, 1676 In the Year of Our Lord

Oh Dear God. As Job hath said "And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (1.21) I cannot but wonder at the turning of events in the last day. So little time has passed yet the world I just described as peaceful and full of blessing has fallen from under my feet. My soul yearns to cry out as Christ did " My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?" (John 15.34)

They came at dawn.I heard the cries of the cattle first and then I saw them. From the east side of the village, they came to us shrieking and screaming, charging all the while. They were quick to do their work, shooting and throwing boulders at homes, demanding for the inhabitants to exit or die. Either choice seemed certain death, yet I saw neighbor after neighbor cut down as they quitted their homes. These heathens showed no sign of faltering in their quest for blood. The Queen put it well when she gave charge to claim these "remote heathen and barbarous lands, countries and territories not actually possessed of any Christian prince and inhabited by Christian people..." I am no enslaved. I have been taken by these "heathen and barbarous" people and know not if my life should continue another day. Sarah has been shot through the stomach and it pains me intensely to see her writhe in pain. She is constantly in my arms and will not leave them, so help me God.

February 9, 1676 in the Year of our Lord

It is quite a lovely day today. Joseph has written me from Boston saying that the work goes well on bringing troops to the area; they are quite needed. The daughters of Mrs. Anne Tillingdale have no father or brother due to the attack there last week. I'm terribly sorry for their loss, and for the loss of those others in the town who are steeped in sorrow at the loss of a loved one. The heathen natives cannot have a heart inside their naked chests.

However, that aside, I fell to tending my children this evening and was able to invent a winding story to put them to sleep. I cannot help but count the blessings I have as I watch them sleeping angelically. The Lord hath granted me much, and it oft' goes unaccounted for. Lancaster is a beautiful town that is full of God's loving children. I am often taken breathless as I look at the snow that rests on the pines and rooftops. I truly believe, as the Psalmist says, that "The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftmanship." (19.1) My three children are each blessings that never cease to amaze me. Joseph takes so much after his father; I love seeing his quiet strength in passing moments that mirrors his father. The love of the Lord is beginning to take hold of his 14 year old heart. And Mary. Oh how she's grown in the past year. The childhood in her is fleeting, and as with Joseph, I see the woman she will be coming from time to time. I hope that the Proverb speaks truth: "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he shall not depart from it." (22.6) I pray earnestly for their souls that they will not. Little Sarah is a bundle of Joy that I cannot help but believe is a gift from the Father. She is so innocent and curious about the world she is growing up in. Everyday is a new opportunity to explore that world with her, letting Christ be the light which guides the journey.

And Joseph. I love my husband with a passion that I believe rivals the love of all other marriages. He is indeed a gift from the Lord, a wonderful companion to walk with me through this life. His heart for the Lord seems to me boundless; he has the love of Christ running through his veins and it overflows into everything he does. As the wonderful poet Anne Bradstreet writes, "If ever two were one, the surely we. If ever man were lov'd by wide, then thee." I cannot express this relaitionship; yet to simply say, I love him.

It is late and I must put down the pen to rest my mind and body. My soul content, I will here leave my thoughts and let the darkness of night warmly envelope me, as the Father watches over my children and I.