Undeserved Grace

Have you ever been humbled by the grace of God?

Last night, as I was on my way to grab some food before watching The Walking Dead finale with my roommates, I found myself getting frustrated at traffic. I kept looking at the clock in the car, wondering whether I’d be able to make it through the Taco Bell line in time to see the opening scene of the episode. I don’t like being late, and I really don’t like missing any part of a story, so I let myself inwardly grumble about every little thing that could possibly delay my arrival back at the apartment. Simply put, I was being a selfish punk. And yet, I didn’t have any reason to be frustrated. Most of the traffic lights were green on my way back, including those that seem to always stop me, and the traffic wasn’t bad at all. In fact, I managed to walk into the apartment just as the show was beginning. As I drove, God seemed to make it clear that he was working things out for me, even though I was being selfish about the whole situation. He was showing me grace in the very moment that I knew I didn’t deserve it. Continue reading

Hope, My Soul, In God

Hope, my soul, in God.
Lift your head and have no fear.
Know, O heart, that he is here.
To this promise, tune your ear.
See his staff and rod.

Hope in his good reign.
Sov’reign over ev’ry sin,
His, the earth and all therein.
Ev’ry battle, he will win.
Trust him through the rain.

“Hope: the best of things.”
Devil, demons, try your might;
You’ve already lost the fight.
Darkness cannot kill the Light.
Peace and joy, he brings.

Creation

The Lord has spoken to the void
And brought about a great expanse.
Into a world of life devoid,
He called creation up to dance.
He formed the fabric of this time,
And light was his divine decree.
No language can his glory rhyme;
He rules o’er all in sov’reignty.
He is the Author of all love,
All pleasure too, his gift of grace,
All wonder at the stars above,
And ev’ry wonder of this space.
O magnify the grace of God,
And praise the perfect Lord of all,
And join with all, the sky and sod,
Resounding his all glorious call.

The Humble Ruler

The humble ruler born to die did come
Desiring not the trappings of a king.
Far greater than all earthly glory’s sum,
He entered his own world through suffering.
Presuming not to take the place of prince,
He lived instead a life of sacrifice.
His poverty did make the wealthy wince,
Yet he was fit to pay the ransom price.
So well acquainted was he with our grief,
Afflicted by the wrath of God above.
The silent, slaughtered lamb has won relief,
And, by his wounds, he heals our hearts in love.
In service did the Master live and die
And rise to rescue lost ones from the lie.

Who Is A God Like You?

Who is a God like you
That you should hear our cries,
And pardon our iniquity,
And never speak in lies?
Who is a God like you
That we are not too small
For you to stoop and seek and save
Our souls from our great fall?
Who is a God like you
That you should suffer loss,
And leave your throne to bear the curse
Of sin upon that cross?
Who is a God like you
Who overcomes our death
Who makes the broken heart to beat
And gives us saving breath?

The Necessity of Bad News

In 1741, Jonathan Edwards preached a sermon entitled “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” to a congregation in Enfield, Connecticut. He had preached this sermon previously to his own congregation in Northampton, Massachusetts, where the message was received with little response. But when he preached in Enfield, where men of faith had been praying steadfastly, God moved in the building in almost tangible ways. People learned to fear the Lord, and lives were forever changed. But before the good news of the Gospel could take hold, the people had to be broken by the bad news. And the bad news was very bad.
Continue reading

Salvation

O God, I humbly must confess
My love for all unrighteousness.
My love for you, I know, is less
Than my desire for filthiness.
And I, by my own might, cannot
Erase the blemish, ban the blot
Of sin. This wound I cannot clot.
Apart from help, this life will rot.
So come before this heart of dross
That festers underneath the gloss
Makes of this man a total loss.
O God, how I deserve that cross.
I know there is no good in me.
Your son, I could not hope to be,
For by your Word, I better see:
My only hope must come from Thee.
And though I cannot earn your peace,
By grace you do from sin release
My soul, and cause my death to cease.
Your holy blood has washed my fleece.
Depravity cannot repel
The Savior snatching souls from hell.
And though we wear this dying shell,
Our ears will hear the wedding bell.
So let me never now lose sight
Of your great glory, grace, and might,
And let your holy, saving light
Shine through and make me ever bright.

The Genius of Jonah

Jonah strikes me as a guy who might have gotten punched in the face a few times over the course of his life. The short book that bears his name records that he fled from God when called to service, he hid his sin from those who were suffering from the consequences of his mistakes, he got angry at God for allowing his enemies to repent and for allowing his shade plant to wither, and he asked God to kill him because those frustrations made death more appealing to him than life. By the end of chapter four, Jonah seems to be the epitome of the title, “Jerk.” But when you do a bit of study, you learn that this book is likely autobiographical. In other words, Jonah is probably the author of this account. And, if that is true, than Jonah arguably highlighted his less than honorable characteristics for a purpose. So, what would make a man point out his flaws so transparently?
Continue reading

Sharpening

How can I comfort those who mourn
Unless I learn to mourn myself?
For fellowship with those forlorn,
I must be taken from the shelf.
For there I sat so safe and calm,
But there I also gathered dust.
If this, my life, would be a balm,
Then I must learn that God is just
Not just in times of peace and rest,
But in my sorrow, sickness, strife.
If I would follow heaven’s best,
I will not have an easy life.
But through my broken heart, he speaks,
And through my suff’ring, Christ is seen.
If soon, with death, my body reeks,
My soul, by grace through faith, is clean.
So why would I avoid the pain
If, through the turmoil, faith is grown?
The struggle leads to priceless gain
As man’s despair is overthrown.
All things do work together for
The good of those He called in love,
And though we walk the road of war,
God reigns in sov’reignty above.

image