I will say that I have not laughed as hard had I have this evening in a long, long while.  I had not one, but two asthma attacks...both of which I lay at the feet of Pastor W!  If you would like a superlative chuckle, follow this link to the comments on one of his posts.  Seriously, he has some witty brothers in office!  Oh, my, so grateful am I for this post and their humor even though I had to use my epipen!  Then, after I had regained control, I received a reply to my email to him.  [I sent him photos of my new crucifix for I just knew he would understand my joy.]  I twitted him a bit and his quick wit came to play once more.  I guffawed...and started coughing and wheezing and crying...but for once they were good tears!  SIGH.
So, here I am nebulizing again.  I probably ought to head on over to the ER for my sats are low and have been low for a while.  I just hate that place; I hate being alone in my fear that swells with each labored breath.

I would like to note one more mercy.  A pastor who pens such wonderful things about the Treasury of Daily Prayer asked for comments from those who read his blog now that a year has passed.  Given how much I have savored his teaching, I posted my two cents.  He somehow found my blog, came here, read my struggles, and encouraged me in his reply.  Is not God merciful to this wounded sheep?

I thought Walther might be the perfect balm to a troubled heart and a spasmodic pulmonary system.  So, shall we continue my beloved The Proper Distinction of Law and Gospel?

If you remember, we were discussing the giving of Law and the giving of Gospel in the 15th Evening Lecture:

We also learned that it is a false method to prescribe to an alarmed sinner all manner of rules for his conduct, telling him what he has to do, how earnestly and how long he must pray, and wrestle, and struggle until he hears a mysterious voice whispering in his heart: "Your sins are forgiven; you are a child of God; you are converted," or until he feels that the grace of God has been poured out in his heart.  That is the method adopted for conversion by all the Reformed sects and their adherents. (140)

He continues by telling first of a popular book written by a Lutheran that rather erroneously mixed Law and Gospel and admits that he himself fell beneath its weight.

After graduating from college, I entered the university. I was no outspoken unbeliever, for my parents were believers.  But I had left my parent's home already when I was eight years old, and all my associates were unbelievers; so were all my professors, with the exceptions of one in whom there seemed to be a faint trace of faith.  When I entered the university I did not know the Ten Commandments by heart and could not recite the list of the books in the Bible.  My knowledge of the Bible was pitiful, and I had not an inkling of Faith.

However, I had an older brother, who had entered the university before me.  Not long before my arrival he had joined a society of converted people.  Upon my arrival he introduced me to this circle of Christian students.  I had no premonition of the fate I was approaching, but I had great respect for my brother, who invited me to come with him.  At first, I was attracted merely by the friendly and kind manner in which these students treated me.  I was not used to such treatment, for at our college the intercourse of students had been a rather rough affair.  I like the manner of these students exceedingly well.  At first, then it was not the Word of God that attracted me.  But I began to like the company of these Christian students so much that I gladly attended even their prayer-meetings—for they conducted such meetings.

Lo and behold!  it was there that God began to work on my soul by means of His Word.  In a short time I had really become a child of God, a believer, who trusted in His grace.  Of course, I was not deeply grounded in Christian knowledge.  

This state of affairs was continued for nearly half a year.  Then an old candidate of theology, a genuine Pietist, entered our circle.  He could not expect ever to obtain a pastorate in the state church, as at that time rationalism held  sway everywhere.  The other students thought we were crazy and shunned us as one does people who are afflicted with a contagious disease.  That was the sad state of affairs in Germany at the beginning of the nineteenth century.

Now, this candidate who came to us said:  "You imagine you are converted Christians, don't you?  But you are not.  You have not yet passed through any real penitential agony."  I found this view day and night, thinking at first that he meant to take us from under the sway of the Gospel and put us back under the Law.  But he kept repeating his assertion until I finally began to ask myself whether I was really a Christian.  At first I had felt so happy, believing in my Lord Jesus Christ; now there began for me a period of the severest spiritual afflictions.

I went to the candidate and asked him, "What must I do to be saved?"  he prescribed a number of things that I was to do and gave me several books to read, among them Fresenius's Book on Confession and Communion.  The farther I got in reading the book, the more uncertain I became whether I was a Christian.  An inner voice kept saying to me:  "The evidence that you have the requirements of a Christian is insufficient."  To make matters worse, the aforementioned candidate was more pietistic than Fresenius himself.  At that time, when opening any religious book treating of the order of grace and salvation, I would read only the chapter on repentance.  When I would  come to the chapters on the Gospel and Faith, I would close the book, saying: "That is not for me."  An increasing darkness settled on my soul as I tasted less and less of the sweetness of the Gospel.  God knows I did not mean to work a delusion on myself; I wanted to be saved.  In those days I regarded those as the best books which spoke a stern language to sinners and left them nothing of the grace of God.

Finally I heard of a man who was reported to be a real spiritual physician.  I wrote to him with the though in my mind that, if he were to say something to me about the grace of God and the Gospel, I would throw his letter into the stove.  However, his letter was so full of comfort that I could not resist its arguments.  That is how I was brought out of my miserable condition into which I had been led chiefly by Fresenius. (141-142)

Some parts of this sound uncomfortably familiar!  Have I not been struggling with the very same thing?  Allowing the Law to have the final word with me?  And have I not wanted a seelsorge (a curer of souls), who will pour out upon me such Gospel as even I can hear?



Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!