Today (Saturday) all of my self-love and pride and vanity became a number. Before I knew it I was kneeling before it in worship. It was not the number, of course [1 Corinthains 8], but the person whom it represented: me. I am painfully aware that there was (is!) more pride in my heart than thankfulness. O God how frail I am before you; “remember my frame, that I am dust.”
O to grace how great a debtor, daily I’m constrained to be!
Let thy goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee
Prone to wander Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above [more...]
Father, help me to count this as not merely secondary, but as dung, when compared to the excellency of the knowledge of Christ. Not just with my lips, not just with my mind, but in my innermost heart. And let not this prayer be chalked up in my heart as the end of the work, but merely the birthpangs of its beginning. Please do this, Lord, for your name’s sake. Amen.
gmail.com
