To his beloved Mother
To his beloved Mother, J. K. sends greetings in the Lord.
The desire that I have to hear of your continuance, which Christ Jesus in the day of this His battle which shall shortly end to the confusion of His proud enemies, neither by tongue nor by pen can I express, beloved Mother. Assuredly, it is such that it vanquishes and overcomes all remembrance and solicitude, which the flesh uses to take for feeding and defense of itself. For in every realm and nation,
God will stir up someone or other to minister those things that pertain to this wretched life, and if men will cease to do their office, yet will He send His ravens, so that in every place, perhaps I may find some feathers for my body. But alas, where I shall find children to be begotten unto God by the word of life, that I cannot presently consider. And therefore, the spiritual life of such as once boldly professed Christ (God knows) is to my heart more dear than all the glory, riches, and honor on the earth. And the falling back of such men, as I hear daily turning back to that idol again, is to me more sorrowful than I trust corporal death shall ever be when it comes at God's appointment. Some will ask then, why did I flee? Assuredly, I cannot tell. But of one thing I am sure, that the fear of death was not the chiefest cause of my flight. I trust that one cause has been to let me see with my corporeal eyes that all had not a true heart unto
Christ, that in the day of rest and peace, bore a fair face. But my fleeing is no matter; by God's grace, I may come to battle before all the conflict is ended. And haste the time, O Lord, at your good pleasure, that once again my tongue may praise your holy name before the congregation, even if it be in the very hour of death.
I have written a lengthy treatise concerning the plagues that will surely apprehend obstinate idolaters and those who dissemble with