“I counsel you to think highly of Christ, and of free, free grace, more than ye did before; for I know that Christ is not known amongst us. I think that I see more of Christ than ever I saw; and yet I see but little of what may be seen.
Oh that He would draw back the curtains, and that the King would come out of His gallery and His palace, that I might see Him! Christ’s love is young glory and young heaven; it would soften hell’s pain to be filled with it.
What would I refuse to suffer, if I could get but a draught of love at my heart’s desire! Oh, what price can be given for Him. Angels cannot weigh Him.
Oh, His weight, His worth, His sweetness, His overpassing beauty! If men and angels would come and look to that great and princely One, their ebbness could never take up His depth, their narrowness could never comprehend His breadth, height, and length.
If ten thousand thousand worlds of angels were created, they might all tire themselves in wondering at His beauty, and begin again to wonder of new.
Oh that I could come nigh Him, to kiss His feet, to hear His voice, to feel the smell of His ointments! But oh, alas! I have little, little of Him.
Yet I long for more.”
–Samuel Rutherford, “Letter CLXXV,” Letters of Samuel Rutherford (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1664/2012), 331.
To have that kind of passion. How do we get there? I know that it is more than mere emotion.