I find it rare to relate with these crucifixions of the mind in the present age, but there is comfort throughout church history, and this is a story of a young man that died early that dealt with scrupulosity who has helped me a lot even though he’s been long gone. Helps me realize I’m not alone even though my mind says otherwise, if I were to die, I don’t know why people would be sad. I think it makes me angry actually at the thought of someone mourning me.
Early Life and Loss
David Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, in Haddam, Connecticut.
By the time he was fourteen, both of his parents were dead.
He wrote later:
“I was from my youth somewhat sober and inclined to melancholy.”
That melancholy was not casual sadness. It was deep, spiritual anguish. Even as a teenager he feared damnation.
At nineteen, he described his spiritual condition like this:
“My soul was in anguish; I felt myself to be a lost and undone creature.”
He tried reform.
He tried discipline.
He tried religious duty.
Nothing quieted the terror.
He once wrote:
“I could not bear to think of God; I thought of Him as an absolute sovereign that could dispose of me as He pleased.”
You can hear the Anfechtung in that.
Conversion — Through Collapse
In 1739, after months of despair, something broke.
He described it not as emotional ecstasy — but as surrender:
“I wondered that all the world did not see and comply with this way of salvation, entirely by the righteousness of Christ.”
The torment didn’t vanish overnight.
But the center shifted.
Salvation was no longer something he achieved.
It was something received.
Expelled and Isolated
Brainerd enrolled at Yale.
During a moment of frustration, he privately remarked that one of his tutors had “no more grace than a chair.”
He was overheard.
He was expelled.
He never regained his degree.
That expulsion haunted him.
He wrote:
“I felt the distress of my soul too great to be expressed.”
Humiliation deepened his melancholy.
Missionary to the Native Americans
Denied a pulpit in settled churches, he became a missionary to Native Americans in frontier territories (New Jersey and Pennsylvania).
The conditions were brutal:
Freezing winters Malnutrition Tuberculosis Isolation Constant physical weakness
He coughed blood.
He slept in damp huts.
He preached while shaking.
Yet spiritually, something remarkable happened.
There were powerful awakenings among the Native Americans. Entire communities wept under conviction and embraced the gospel.
Brainerd, however, remained emotionally fragile.
He wrote:
“I feel myself to be a poor, weak creature… I have no power to do anything.”
And at other times:
“Oh that I might be as holy as God is holy!”
His journals oscillate between despair and burning devotion.
He fasted excessively.
He prayed for hours in snow.
He drove his body beyond reason.
It likely worsened his tuberculosis.
Jonathan Edwards Enters the Story
Jonathan Edwards read Brainerd’s journals and was stunned by the depth of his spirituality.
Edwards believed Brainerd embodied true religious affections — genuine Christianity marked by inward transformation.
When Brainerd’s tuberculosis advanced, he was brought into the Edwards home in Northampton, Massachusetts in 1747.
This is where Jerusha enters.
Jerusha Edwards and the Quiet Romance
Jerusha Edwards was 17.
Brainerd was 29 and dying.
She cared for him personally — nursing him through coughing fits, weakness, and collapse.
There is no record of dramatic romantic confession. But their affection was obvious.
Edwards himself wrote of Jerusha’s deep devotion to Brainerd during his illness.
Brainerd, near death, wrote:
“I long to be in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels.”
And:
“Why is His chariot so long in coming?”
He was ready to die.
But those around him saw something tender between him and Jerusha.
One contemporary later wrote that their love was “pure and ardent,” restrained by holiness and overshadowed by death.
The Final Days
Brainerd died October 9, 1747.
He was 29.
Jerusha was at his side.
He reportedly said near the end:
“He will come, and will not tarry.”
He died in the Edwards home.
Jonathan Edwards later published “The Life of David Brainerd”, which became one of the most influential missionary biographies in history. It deeply influenced:
William Carey Henry Martyn Jim Elliot
Jerusha’s Death
Here is the quiet tragedy.
Jerusha had contracted tuberculosis while caring for Brainerd.
She died February 14, 1748.
She was 18.
Just four months after him.
They were buried side by side.
They never married.
They never had a life together.
But in death, they were joined.
Jonathan Edwards’ Own End
Jonathan Edwards later became president of Princeton.
In 1758, he took a smallpox inoculation to set an example for the community.
He had a severe reaction.
On his deathbed he said:
“Trust in God, and you need not fear.”
He died March 22, 1758.
The Spiritual Torment
Brainerd’s life was marked by intense inward struggle:
Self-loathing Fear of spiritual coldness Obsession with holiness Physical self-denial Emotional oscillation
His journals contain lines like:
“I feel my heart so prone to wander.”
And:
“My soul is full of distress and anguish.”
Yet also:
“I care not where or how I live, or what hardships I go through, so that I can but gain souls for Christ.”
He burned bright — but he burned himself up.
Some historians believe today he likely suffered from severe depression and possibly scrupulosity.
Jonathan Edwards admired his intensity — but Edwards himself was more theologically steady, less emotionally volatile.
The Sad Romance
It was not dramatic.
It was not sensual.
It was not rebellious.
It was quiet.
Holy.
Interrupted.
A dying missionary.
A young woman who loved him.
A father who respected him.
A home turned hospice.
They never had a wedding.
Only a shared grave.
And yet their story shaped global missions for centuries.
MY STORY OF RELIGIOUS OCD 