Letters of Samuel Rutherford

I've come to love books of pastoral letters. It's a tradition that has been pretty much lost in our day (with the exception of the late Jack Miller), but I've come to see it's beauty and grace, the reality of pastoral counsel recorded to be milled over and chewed as cudd. Lately I have been reading the Letters of Samuel Rutherford, a Scottish, Puritan pastor who was exiled from his parish and forced to cease all preaching of God's word. Here is a passage from his letters that strikes me as particularly poignant and real. As you can see, Puritan pastors matched brokenness and truth in a way that bleeds humility.

"I see faith's necessity in a fair day is never known aright; but now I miss nothing so much as faith. Hunger in me runneth to fair and sweet promises; but when I come, I am like a hungry man that wanteth teeth, or a weak stomach having a sharp appetite that is filled with the very sight of meat, or like one stupified with cold under the water, that would fain come to land but cannot grip anything casten to him. I can let Christ grip me, but I cannot grip him. I love to be kissed, and to sit on Christ's knee; but I cannot set my feet to the ground, for afflictions bring the cramp upon my faith. All that I can do is to hold out a lame faith to Christ like a beggar holding out a stump, instead of an arm or leg, and cry, 'Lord Jesus, work a miracle!' O what would I give to have hands and arms to grip strongly and fold handsomely about Christ's neck and to have my claim made good with real possession! I think that my love to Christ hath feet in abundance, and runneth swiftly to be at him, but it wanteth hands and fingers to apprehend him. I think that I would give Christ every morning my blessing, to have as much faith as I have love and hunger; at least I miss faith more than love or hunger."