GDB

James 4:14–16 KJV 1900

Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that. But now ye rejoice in your boastings: all such rejoicing is evil.

Journal Entry July 20, 1821 “I shall soon be twenty one years of age. A wide world lies before me; a world of various pursuits and employments; a world of sin and of sinful beings. It becomes me seriously to inquire, what God would have me to do. I have some fondness for science and literature; a greater fondness for theology. My constitution is pretty good, my heart exceedingly prone to evil, my talents for speaking small, but my mind is swallowed up in the cause of Christ....”

A letter written to his father Oct. 13 1821 “I cannot say that I am fully established as to the course which it may be my duty, in future, to pursue. That it is my duty to be engaged somewhere in the promotion of the Redeemer's cause, I have but little doubt. “

Dec. 9, 1822 George receives news from home. “You have doubtless heard before this, of the breach that is made in our little family. Our beloved Harriett is no more. On Saturday, the 30th at 6 o’clock in the morning she ‘fell asleep. The loss of her society, of her prayers, and of her humble, pious example, we shall long and deeply lament. During her long and distressed illness, she manifested a holy resignation to the divine will, and unshaken confidence in her Saviour’s righteousness alone, and the ground of her justification before God. All her near relations were permitted to see her in her last illness, and to hear her converse on the goodness of God, and the supports she found in relation. ” Although this letter goes on, I want to share the last paragraph. “Let us obey the voice which speaks this heavenly admonition. Soon we may follow our deer Harriet down to the shades of death. How still and imperceptibly death pursues his prey. He may not be far from every one of us. Let us work, therefore, while the day lasts, for the night cometh speedily.”

Her death brought a keen realization of brevity of life, and of his responsibility to God to use life to the maximum.

Feb. 22, 1823 “My dear, very dear parents, In the multitude and variety of my avocations, I do not forget the beloved members of our family. I often call to mind past scenes, scenes which every person on earth but myself has long since forgotten, and which can never be renewed. I indulge sometimes in pensive melancholy, at the thought of never again enjoying, under your parental roof, the society of our dear Harriet. But we hope to enjoy her society in a larger, a holier, and happier family above. Sometimes it appears to me probable, that my pilgrimage here on earth will be protracted but a few days longer, when I shall fall asleep. But I am not particularly alarmed at the thought of death. Deprive me of the hope and prospect of doing some little good in the world, and I should wish no longer to stay. I would be kept no longer from my dear Saviour, than I can be engaged in is blessed service. I have such a weight of sin about me, that my life is one of mourning and sorrow. My heart almost weeps over its own sins, but the more of sin I see in myself, the more precious does the Saviour appear. ..”

Shortly after these events the news of Missionary James Coleman would be heard and the Lord used this to call George to the mission field of Burma to aid in the work there along side Mr. Judson.

In Burma, Sarah writes to a friend back home about the dangers they face. This is 1827, four years before her husband would die, and just a short time in the field. They are at their second location after being forced from their first village. “About a month after our removal, we were awakened on e morning just before day-break. Mr. B. called for a light, and to our surprise and consternation, we found every trunk and box in the room broken open and robbed of their contents. The bureau also shared a similar fate. The looking-glass we brought from Philadelphia was gone; the watch Mr. B. had kept so long, and our silver spoons, given me by my mother. They also took our bunch of keys, causing us to fear that they might visit us again. After the first surprise had a little subsided, I raised my eyes to the mosquitoes curtains surrounding our bed, and to my indescribable emotion, saw two large holes cut, the one at the head and the other at the foot of the place where my dear husband had been sleeping. From that moment, I quite forgot the stolen goods, and though only of the treasure that was spared. In imagination, I saw the assassins with their horrid weapons standing by our bed-side, and ready to do their worst, had we been permitted to awake, O, how merciful was the watchful Providence, which prolonged those powerful slumbers that night, not allowing even the infant at my bosom to open its eyes at so critical a moment. If ever gratitude glowed in my heart, if ever the world appeared to me worthless as vanity, if every I wished to dedicate myself, my husband, my babe, my all, to our great Redeemer, it was at that time. “

June 1831 Sarah writes to a friend. “My dear husband is suffering from a distressing cough, which the doctor says is undoubtedly occasioned by an affection of the lungs. It was brought on by our dreadful exposures and sufferings during the rebellion; and, I think, much increased by the hardships he endured in his village-preaching at Tavoy. He used sometimes to walk twenty miles in a day, preaching and teaching as he went, and at night have no shelter but an open zayat, no food at all calculated to sustain his failing nature, and no bed, but a straw mat spread on the cold, open bamboo floor. And now came the indescribably mournful watch, when the aching heart feels its one earthly support crumbling, sand by sand, from beneath it, and there is none to raise a saving finger.”

But still the toil sent on even now, Mr. B. preaching, attending Scriptural recitations, and prayer-meetings, overseeing the printing of books, preparing lessons for the boys’ school.

Then to her mother. “Oh, my dear mother, it would distress you to see how emaciated he is! and so weak, that he is scarce able to move. God is calling to me the most impressive manner, to set my heart on heavenly things. Two lovely infants already in the world of bliss, by beloved husband suffering under a disease, which will most assuredly take him from me, my own health poor, and little Georgie often ill. Oh, how little have I to attach me to this wretched, fallen world!”

She then says, “They (the Karen’s) had heard of Mr. Boardman’s illness; and the sadness depicted on their countenances, when they saw him so pale and emaciated, affected me much. I felt that God had, indeed, raised me up sympathizing friends, even int eh wilderness, among those who are considered barbarians by the Burman’s themselves. Before we had been here a fortnight, one party came for the sole purpose of seeing us and hearing the gospel. They remained four days, and the eagerness with which they listened to our instructions, and the deep interest they manifested in religious affairs, reminded us o four associations at home.”

1 Samuel 17:29 KJV 1900

And David said, What have I now done? Is there not a cause?