An Unwasted Life

I recently finished reading My Heart in His Hands, a biography of Ann Judson by Sharon James. Ann and her husband Adoniram were among the first-ever American missionaries; they went overseas in 1812. Ann was converted to faith in Christ during the Second Great Awakening. She married Adoniram knowing his missionary plans and knowing that she would leave the country probably never to see her beloved family again.

She endured months and years on shipboard, the miscarriage of her first child, the death of her firstborn, and extremely slow progress as she and her husband worked in Burma learning the language, translating the Bible, and waiting six years for their first convert. She also endured numerous lengthy separations from Adoniram because of her ill health and various ministry needs. They were pressured by an unfriendly government, and when war broke out between England and Burma, Adoniram was imprisoned.

Ann followed her husband from prison to miserable prison, doing what she could to relieve his suffering while sometimes nearly on her own deathbed. Their third child was born when Ann was living with a Burmese family near Adoniram’s prison, and she became so ill that her husband was given permission to drag through the town in chains with his starving child to beg other mothers to feed her.

After almost two years, Adoniram was freed at war’s end, and amazingly, he and Ann returned to work with as much fervor as before, grateful that they were able to give their lives to evangelism. But Ann’s health had been damaged beyond repair. When Adoniram had to leave again for a few months’ errand, it was the last time he would see his wife – she died while he was gone, at age 37, and their baby daughter Maria died several months later.

The biography I read is composed mostly of Ann’s journals and letters. Her writing is unlike any other I have read; her theology was deep, biblical, and rock-solid, forming the foundation for everything she did and wrote. She stayed herself on the sovereignty of God and was consumed with a passion for spreading the knowledge of salvation in Christ. Undeterred by the inhumane ordeals she experienced, she did not drown her soul in complaints and self-pity. She acknowledged the immense trials that they experienced, but her gaze was ever upward and outward.

Ann was hardly superhuman; the very personal insights into her life make that clear. But she knew her sin, and she knew her Savior, and she was committed to duty and discipline in ways that we rarely talk about now. My Heart in His Hands is a glimpse into an unwasted life – not because she was a missionary or because she experienced greater suffering than you or me, but because she lived for the glory of God and found all of her joy in Him.

I was given this book when I graduated from high school, and I started reading it awhile ago, but it never caught my attention so much as it did now. It is one of the best books I’ve read – and that is saying a lot, because I’ve read my share. I highly recommend it!