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Ps. civ. 1. Dear Brethren and Friends:--On leaving home some three months ago, I was sad because of the cold state or indifference of many churches, and my own lack of greater love and obedience to God. My resolve was firm to humbly avoid public discourse and private conversation On the threadbare subjects so long and unprofitably discussed, and to "know nothing among you save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.” I Cor. ii. 2. In Northern Texas, my attention was called to these much worn subjects in the form of letters and replies on the will and ways of God, and what might have happened if Adam had not sinned. After reading a part of this contention devoted to the arts of philosophy, I was much impressed to seek not after such "oppositions of science." I Tim. iv. 20. Brethren, "Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy." Col. ii. 8. Remember, God's "Thoughts are higher than your thoughts," and "His ways past finding out." Isa Iv. 9; Rom. xi. 33. The following night the Lord did greatly comfort me in a dream, which is now being fulfilled, From this and the Bible, I saw that the church has wounded herself by pride, and that God alone can heal and save us from our enemies. Beloved, I am deeply impressed and comforted of the Lord by the marked improvement in the churches, that the time to "Favor Zion is come." I appreciate the Trumpet for its gospel messages of love. God bless you, Brother Webb. May the Lord guide you by His counsel, sustain you by His grace, and lead us all to do His will. And I would humbly beg all the dear brethren that we may not further probe our wounds, but obey the voice of God, "The servant of the Lord must not strive." II Tim. ii. 4. So let us all avoid strife, and where error exists, let the church save or withdraw from those who are disorderly. I feel sure that the church though wounded by pride and contention is now being healed. God is able to heal the wounds we have received from the mistakes of our friends, and the thrusts of our enemies. The eternal God is our refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms. "Bless the Lord, O my soul." Yours in love, Sparta, Tex. M.D. DENMAN.
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