Yours, in his lovely and sweet Lord Jesus,
As for your journey to F.,1 ye do well to follow it. The camp is Christ's ordinary bed. A carried bed is kindly to the Beloved, down in this lower house. It may be (and who knoweth but) our Lord hath some centurions, whom ye are sent to. Seeing your angry mother denieth you lodging and house-room with her, Christ s call to unknown faces must be your second wind, seeing ye cannot have a first.2 Oh that our Lord would water again with a new visit this piece-withered and dry hill of our widow, Mount Zion.
My dear brother, I shall think it comfort, if ye speak my name to our Well-beloved. Wherever ye are, I am mindful of you. Oh that the Lord would yet make the light of the moon in Scotland as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun seven-fold brighter. For myself, as yet I have received no answer whither to go. I wait on. Oh that Jesus had my love! Let matters frame as they list, I have some more to do with Christ; yet I would fain we were nearer.
Now the great Shepherd of the sheep, the very God of peace, establish and confirm you till the day of His coming.
Yours, in his lovely and sweet Lord Jesus,
ABERDEEN, SEPT. 9, 1637. S. R.