John Robinson, courtesy of pilgrimjohnhowlandsociety.org

Last year I produced a short feature for Prime Time America on John Robinson, Pastor to the Pilgrims (click here to listen).   As we prepare for Thanksgiving, I thought I would come back to the writings of Rev. Robinson on a topic that I am particularly thankful for this year: the friends in my life that God has used to encourage me and challenge me to become a better man of God. 

Here are a few thoughts from Robinson's essay on friendship:

As God hath established fellowships and communities of men to procure their mutual good, and to fence them the better, on every side, against evil; so sin and wickedness being the greatest and only absolute evil, Christians are most bound by virtue of their association, to help, and assist, within the bounds of the callings in which God hath set them, their brethren, and associates against it: according to that of the philosopher; he that bears with the vices of his friend makes them his own...

We are wisely to judge before, but freely to credit after, the knot of friendship is tied: yet so as we try the wisdom, secrecy, and faithfulness of our friends in smaller matters, before we trust them in greater; as men use to try, whether their vessels will hold water, or no, before they put wine in to them.  And, albeit, that Christian love, “ which is the bond of perfection, and first fruits of the Spirit,” Col. iii. 14, be due to all Christians from all; yet are not all fit friends for all, of that fellowship. Gal. v. 12. David, notwithstanding the many worthies in his kingdom, had specially “ Hushai, the king's friend,” 1 Chron. xxvii. 33: and so had our Lord, whilst he lived upon earth, specially John, among all the twelve, “ the disciple whom he loved.” John xiii. 23. This special affection to one above the rest in Christ, was holy, yet human...

Wealth maketh many friends, and poverty trieth them; as the wind shows which clouds have rain in them, and which not And so, though the rich have the more friends, yet the poor's better appear to be faithful, in giving testimony that they love their friends for God, and the persons themselves: which to know is not a small privilege, that poor men have above others, who can hardly discern whether their persons or riches be loved.

“A friend,” saith the wise man, “ loveth at all times: and a brother is born for adversity,” Prov. xvii. 17. He saith not, a friend is born for prosperity, though it be one end of friendship, that we might have with whom to communicate, and rejoice in a prosperous state of things; but for adversity, this being the more principal end, specially in our sinful and sorrowful state, for which God hath linked men together in all societies; which the wiser sort of the heathen have seen by the dim light of nature, and that it appertains, specially, to the office of a true friend to ease his friend's grief by speech, to afford him counsel in doubtful cases, to drive away sadness by his cheerfulness, and to refresh him with his very presence.

Happy Thanksgiving.

War Letters, circa 1940's

I have been reading through a few letters my grandfather wrote to my grandmother during World War II and thought I would share one passage from a letter dated June 8, 1942 (letter no. 77) from Valenciennes, France...

"Received your letter no.68 today and thanks honey.  Every time I get one it gives me an added lift.  I believe mail is about the most essential thing to a soldier especially when he is so far away from home.  I don't know how I could ever get along if it wasn't for the letters and packages you have sent me.  I've got a lot to repay you for when I get home."

It would be more than a year before grandpa got his first furlow home (July 1943).   Those letters had to sustain him for a long time...

Furlow with Evie, July 1943

From Proverbs 25

As cold water to a weary soul,
      So is good news from a far country.

Holding Hands, from Stockxpert

When my parents were here this weekend, my mom brought me a box of family history stuff.  In one small wooden box were a pile of letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother.  I have been enjoying the read.  The following joke was written in one of the letters:

A young teenage couple were holding hands as they approached the church building.  As they began to mount the steps, the girl smartly pulled her hand away.  The boy complained and asked why.  The girl sharply replied: "Because it isn't Palm Sunday."  Upset, he muttered back: "Well, its not Independence Day either!"

From Proverbs 6:

My son, keep your father's commands
       and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

Bind them upon your heart forever;
       fasten them around your neck.

When you walk, they will guide you;
       when you sleep, they will watch over you;
       when you awake, they will speak to you.

 For these commands are a lamp,
       this teaching is a light,
       and the corrections of discipline
       are the way to life,

 keeping you from the immoral woman,
       from the smooth tongue of the wayward wife.

Huguenot Cross

Last year, I read St. Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars by G.A. Henty.  I really enjoyed the book (in fact I REALLY need to read another Henty novel...though I'll wait till after I'm done writing this) and spent some time afterwards learning more about the Huguenots and the religious persecution that resulted in so many Protestants fleeing France from the late 16th century through the early 18th century. 

My wife is a descendant of John Robinson, the separatist pastor of the Pilgrims, who during this same time period was fleeing England for religious freedom in Holland.  It has been very meaningful for us as we learn about our family roots to know that we come from families that are committed to personal purity and the purity of Christ's church.  However, I have felt like it's been Pamela's story to tell, not my own.

Well, coming back to the Huguenots, while cleaning out the basement for our remodeling project, I rediscovered some family history documents from my Grandma Butler (Livona Skinner); documents that I had never really read carefully before.  In this packet was an excerpt of a letter that mentions the Moyser (Mosher) family fleeing Alsace Loraine, France, for London around 1580 (about 20 years after the Edict of Orleans and 8 years after the St. Bartholomew Massacre).  There is no mention whether or not they were Huguenots, but the circumstantial evidence is strong.

The Mosher and Skinner lines meet in 1871 with the marriage of Martha Mosher and Andrew Skinner, who had a number of children--including my great grandfather Floyd Skinner.  The Mosher line goes back to the early days of the American Colonies.  So I have quite a bit of work to do to learn more about this side of the family tree, but I am excited about the possibility of having ancestors with a connection to the French Huguenots.

From James 4:

7 Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. 8 Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. 9 Lament and mourn and weep! Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.

John A Logan, Library of Congress

I've been doing some research on the civil war, studying the battles that my ancestors fought in.  One such ancestor is Eliakin Wilson (my great, great, great grandfather).  He fought with the volunteeers of the Iowa Sixth Infantry.  He saw many bloody battles during his four years in the Tennesse Army (Union). 

Shortly before his departure from Tennesse, his commanding officer, John Logan, gave the following speech.  It is long, but worth the read.

Officers and Soldiers of the Army of the Tennessee:

The profound gratification I feel in being authorized to release you from the onerous obligations of the camp, and return you laden with laurels, to homes where warm hearts wait to welcome you, is somewhat embittered by the painful reflection that I am sundering the ties that trials have made true, time made tender, sufferings made sacred, perils made proud, heroism made honorable, and fame made forever fearless of the future.

It is no common occasion that demands the disbandment of a military organization, before the resistless power of which mountains bristling with bayonets have bowed, cities have surrendered, and millions of brave men have been conquered.

Although I have been but a short period your commander, we are not strangers; affections have sprung up between us during the long years of doubt, gloom, and carnage, which we have passed through together, nurtured by common perils, sufferings, and sacrifices, and riveted by the memories of gallant comrades whose bones repose beneath the sod of a hundred battle-fields, which neither time nor distance will weaken or efface.

The many marches that you have made, the dangers you have despised, the haughtiness you have humbled, the duties you have discharged, the glory you have gained, the destiny you have discovered for the country for whose cause you have conquered, all recur at this moment in all the vividness that marked the scenes through which we have just passed. From the pens of the ablest historians of the land, daily are drifting out on the current of time, page upon page, volume upon volume of your heroic deeds, which, floating down to future generations, will inspire the student of history with admiration, the patriotic American with veneration for his ancestors, and the lover of republican liberty with gratitude for those who, in a fresh baptism of blood, reconsecrated the powers and energies of the Republic to the cause of constitutional freedom.

Long may it be the happy fortune of each and everyone of you to live in the full fruition of the boundless blessings you have secured to the human race. Only he whose heart has been thrilled with admiration for your impetuous and unyielding valor in the thickest of the fight, can appreciate with what pride I recount the brilliant achievements which immortalize you, and enrich the pages of our National history. Passing by the earlier but not less signal triumphs of the war in which most of you participated and inscribed upon your banners such victories as Donelson and Shiloh, I recur to your campaigns, sieges, and victories that challenge the admiration of the world and elicit the unwilling applause of all Europe. Turning your backs upon the blood-bathed heights of Vicksburg, you launched into a region swarming with enemies, fighting your way and marching, without adequate supplies, to answer the cry for succor that came to you from the noble but beleaguered Army at Chattanooga. Your steel next flashed among the mountains of the Tennessee, and your weary limbs found rest before the embattled heights of Missionary Ridge, and there with dauntless courage you breasted again the enemy's destructive fire, and shared with your comrades of the Army of the Cumberland the glories of a victory than which no soldiery can boast a prouder. In that unexampled campaign of vigilant and vigorous warfare from Chattanooga to Atlanta you freshened your laurels at Resaca, grappled with the enemy behind his works, hurling him back dismayed and broken. Pursuing him from thence, marking your path by the graves of fallen comrades, you again triumphed over superior numbers at Dallas, fighting your way from there to Kenesaw Mountain and under the murderous artillery that frowned from its rugged heights; with a tenacity and constancy that finds few parallels you labored, fought, and suffered through the boiling rays of a southern midsummer sun, until at last you planted your colors upon its topmost heights.

Again, on the 22nd of July, 1864, rendered memorable through all time for the terrible struggle you so heroically maintained under discouraging disasters and that saddest of all reflections, the loss of that exemplary soldier and popular leader, the lamented McPherson, your matchless courage turned defeat into a glorious victory. Ezra Chapel and Jonesboro added new lustre to a radiant record, the latter unbarring to you the proud Gate City of the South. The daring of a desperate foe in thrusting his legions northward exposed the country in your front, and, though rivers, swamps, and enemies opposed, you boldly surmounted every obstacle, beat down all opposition, and marched onward to the sea. Without any act to dim the brightness of your historic page, the world rang plaudits where your labors and struggles culminated at Savannah, and the old "Starry Banner" waved once more over the wall of one of our proudest cities of the seaboard. Scarce a breathing spell had passed when your colors faded from the coast, and your columns plunged into the swamps of the Carolinas.

The suffering you endured, the labors you performed, and the successes you achieved in those morasses, deemed impassable, form a creditable episode in the history of the war. Pocataligo, Salkahatchie, Edisto, Branchville, Orangeburgh, Columbia, Bentonville, Charleston, and Raleigh are names that will ever be suggestive of the resistless sweep of your columns through the territory that cradled and nurtured, and from whence was sent forth on its mission of crimes, misery, and blood, the disturbing and disorganizing spirits of secession and rebellion.

The world for which you pledged your brave hearts and brawny arms to the government of your fathers you have nobly performed. You are seen in the past, gathering through the gloom that enveloped the land, rallying as the guardians of man's proudest heritage, forgetting the thread unwoven in the loom, quitting the anvil, abandoning the workshops, to vindicate the supremacy of the laws and the authority of the Constitution.

Four years have you struggled in the bloodiest and most destructive war that ever drenched the earth with human gore; step by step you have borne our standard, until today, over every fortress and arsenal that rebellion wrenched from us, and every city, town, and hamlet from the lakes to the gulf, and from ocean to ocean, proudly floats the "Starry Emblem" of our national unity and strength. Your rewards, my comrades, are the welcoming plaudits of a grateful people, the consciousness that, in saving the Republic, you have won for your country renewed respect and power at home and abroad; that, in the [un] exampled era of growth and prosperity that dawns with peace, there attaches mightier wealth of pride and glory than ever before to that loved boast, "I am an American Citizen.”

In relinquishing the implements of war for those of peace, let your conduct, which was that of warriors in time of war, be that of peaceful citizens in time of peace. Let not the lustre of that brighter name you have won as soldiers be dimmed by any improper acts as citizens, but as time rolls on let your record grow brighter and brighter still."

General John A. Logan’s Farewell Address
Headquarters Army of the Tennessee
Louisville, KY, July 13, 1865

Who Knew? 1971

This Christmas break my interest in my family history has been renewed. 

As I have been working through some of the material, I have come across a few stories that have been inspiring and have found some family photographs that I don't necessarily remember, but have evoked deep feelings...or, as in this case, just seem too cute to keep to myself!

From Numbers 1:32

From the sons of Joseph, the children of Ephraim, their genealogies by their families, by their fathers’ house, according to the number of names, from twenty years old and above...