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.