The world is an “unco” inn

I persuade myself that this world is to you an unco [uncommon, strange] inn and that ye are like a traveler, who hath his bundle upon his back, and his staff in his hand, and his feet upon the door-threshold. Go forward, . . . in the strength of your Lord (let the world bide at home and keep the house), with your face toward Him, who longeth more for a sight of you than ye can do for Him. Ere it be long, He will see us. I hope to see you laugh as cheerfully after noon, as ye have mourned before noon. The hand of the Lord, the hand of the Lord be with you in your journey. What have ye to do here? This is not your mountain of rest. Arise, then, and set your foot up the mountain; go up out of the wilderness leaning upon the shoulder of your Beloved (song of So. 8:5). If ye knew the welcome that abideth you when ye come home, ye would hassen your pace; for ye shall see your Lord put up His own holy hand to your face, and wipe all tears from your eyes; and I trow, that ye shall have some joy of heart.
(Rutherford 1951, 99)


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