trying to reckon

It almost seems like to me, this is what arguing with myself in the face of truth is really like.

This fickle heart of unbelief,

Tis bowed again  by shame and grief,

The Promise stands, yet still we run,

Set free, and yet afraid to com.


Cruel beauty of the pain that tore,

Self from the idol he adored

Tis love of Christ, that He might show,

Pain to His saints, that they may know

Remorse that brings us to the Throne,

Again to see we are His own

Our sin on Him, on Him it died

Sealed in the tomb no more to rise

Yet risen He, His work is done,

And now He draws His chosen ones,

Back to the Cross, that they might see,

Their sin that caused His agony,

Our hearts from this are e’er bereft,

And sheltered in that Holy Cleft

Sin no longer a master reigns,

no more his foul breath breathes again

No more a title in his hand,

For Justice now against him stands:

“That debt is gone, the price is paid

Captivity is captive made

The hearts are free to ever sing

the saving power of their King

No longer now we live to die

In us is raised the Abba cry

The Father looks, where was disgrace

A child stands now in the place

No more to sin their knees shall bow,

Their Savior sits in glory now

In love He guides His people’s hearts

Tis love, and though there be a smart

Ye need not fear that chastening rod,

For “Ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s”

Praise the Father, Holy One,

Who for His love spared not His Son

Praise to the Son, who came, who died,

Now in heaven glorified

Praise the Spirit, He who sends

Our hearts unto the Cross again

Till this blessed Trinity

In Heaven’s glory our hearts shall see,

Seek more to wonder and adore

And day by day to know God more.

  1. poem: trying to reckon, part 3 « Flinding’s Weblog

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