Let us not content ourselves with loving GOD for the mere sensible favors, how elevated soever, which he has done, or may do us. Such favors, though never so great, cannot bring us so near to Him as faith does in one simple act. Let us seek Him often by faith. He is within us: seek Him not elsewhere. If we do love Him alone, are we not rude, and do we not deserve blame, if we busy ourselves about trifles which do not please and perhaps offend Him. It is to be feared these trifles will one day cost us dear.
Let us begin to be devoted to Him in good earnest. Let us cast everything besides out of our hearts. He would possess them alone. Beg this favor of Him. If we do what we can on our parts, we shall soon see that change wrought in us which we aspire after. I cannot thank Him sufficiently for the relaxation He has vouchsafed you. I hope from His mercy the favor to see Him within a few days. Let us pray for one another.
I am, in our LORD, Yours, &c.
NOTES:
[1: Gal. i, 10; Eph. vi, 5, 6.]
[2: The particulars which follow are collected from other accounts of Brother Lawrence.]
[3:…
Brother Lawrence invites us past gratitude for answered prayers into something deeper: faith itself as the only real closeness to God. He warns that we mistake the gifts—relief, answered petitions, felt grace—for the Giver. The real work is singular attention: casting out competing desires so God alone occupies the heart. This is not rejection of life's goods, but refusal to mistake them for intimacy.
If you have assumed a character above your strength, you have both acted in this manner in an unbecoming way, and you have neglected that which you might have fulfilled.
Epictetus holds us accountable for what we claim to be capable of bearing. His iron question—have you taken on a role beyond your strength?—complements Lawrence by asking: what character are you assuming in your devotion? Pretense corrupts both integrity and the work you could actually do. No sentiment here, only honest measure.
Still used all over China.
Thereupon the gardener flushed up and said, "I have heard from my teacher that those who have cunning implements are cunning in their dealings, and that those who are cunning in their dealings have cunning in their hearts, and that those who have cunning in their hearts cannot be pure and incorrupt, and that those who are not pure and incorrupt are restless in spirit, and that those who are restless in spirit are not fit vehicles for Tao. It is not that I do not know of these things. I…
The gardener's refusal of cunning implements cuts to the same root as both voices: tools (favors, accomplishments, assumed roles) lodge themselves in the heart and splinter it. Wu-wei—non-action born of purity—echoes Lawrence's "cast everything besides out" and Epictetus's demand for truthful self-knowledge.
All three refuse the path of accumulation—whether of divine consolations, worldly skills, or inflated self-image. But they differ sharply in grammar. Lawrence speaks surrender as Christian love; Epictetus as Stoic duty and honest judgment; the Taoist gardener as natural simplicity that precedes choice. Lawrence waits on grace; Epictetus acts on will; the Taoist stops acting altogether. Yet each warns against the same deception: mistaking the ornament for the substance.
In the next hour, what small honest work can I do without needing credit or proof it matters?