I just took a cold shower and had a shave; the door is shut, but the porthole to starboard is open, and I am enjoying as many of the small comforts as can be expected in the Navy.

Yesterday, one of my colleagues on land asked a crewman here on board how he liked sailing with me, whether he was being inundated with religious talk, etc. The crewman said that the gunner on board the Sleipner was the most upright man he had ever sailed with. The crewman related this to me today, and it was—without his knowing it—a great comfort to me, because it testified to the fact that they had heard something. Whether I am praised or faulted is immaterial to me, as long as their testimony points toward the goal in every circumstance. I get the sense that it is best to be weak, but we can’t even lay hold of weakness by ourselves. Weakness gives strength, but strength finds an outlet, like steam, so we can sometimes go too far. However, this sense of having gone too far makes us weak again. This creates a cycle that I believe gains momentum with time. Our weakness becomes so great that we come to the realization that our lives are totally and utterly dependent on God’s power. The more spiritual we become, the more judgment we receive; the more weakness we partake of, and the more power we gain. However, power manifests itself most often through our silence; then we come across as incapable, which is a hard trial for the flesh. The light shines from behind and from ahead, from beneath and from above.

We see in part and speak in part, which gives us opportunities, through offenses, to get to know ourselves and the power that has saved us in these small details and the grace that we partake of through longsuffering. Usually a person only runs aground in new and uncharted waters. But now the course is charted, so we can navigate our way forward with all vigilance and discernment. Naval life has been extremely beneficial to me because you can’t get a single person to do anything without first overpowering them and conquering them. This incessant battle is of extreme significance, and consequently it can look and sound strange. All things work together for our good. One thing I have asked of God: that I might progress in Him—that I might receive judgment, suffering, and light, not to crush me, but to clear the path ahead of me on “the way.”

I have been corresponding with Br. Plum. I’ve written straight from my heart, without beating around the bush. This affected him so deeply that he said he would bring my letters before the Lord. However, in his last letter, he was friendlier than ever. He had actually begun to regret inviting me to Denmark. So I replied that trips to Denmark were certainly not unusual for me and that I wasn’t itching to go on a pleasure trip. He also wrote that in Denmark they don’t tolerate chastisement, so it would be useless to come with that, to which I replied that I had never heard of the clay having an opinion about how the potter should mold it. He agreed that the Danish people haven’t been molded as God intended. After several such heated exchanges, we have become better friends than ever. I also comforted him by saying that I would definitely not come to Denmark unless it was clearly God’s will—and even then I would only apply for one month’s leave. This calmed his fears and put him considerably more at ease. He had been afraid that I would come to Denmark and only cause trouble—and for six whole months at that.

Many greetings to those who are at home.

Greetings with Isa. 54:17. These are shells fired from the cannon Moses. Hallelujah!

Your brother,