poem: trying to reckon, part 3

These poems have been produced in light of repentance and of Romans 6:11. Read the first here and the second here. How quick I am to forget…

Unbelief! How quick to kill!

This murderer that plagues me still;

I trusted pride, it brought to shame,

And brought dishonour on Christ’s name.

~~

Art thou cast down again, my soul?

Did not thy Christ pay for the whole?

Indeed, but yet I grieve the sins,

That at the Cross were laid on Him

That steal the love that He has won,

That take the Glory from the Son,

Tis He I own, in Him I boast,

Yet what do I desire most?

One little thing invades my heart,

By which my soul is rent apart,

By lusts, by chasing what I will,

Distractions, wandering thoughts instill

A straying mind, which spits at Christ,

And says “His joy does not suffice”,

Thine, unbelief, tis thine to say,

And draw my heart, and flesh away;

This fickle heart, whene’er it pleas,

Before the Throne on bended knees,

How quick to say, That Christ is Lord

By all my life to be adored,

But when my heart forgets the Cross,

So soon it follows worthless dross,

It grabs at dung, where e’er it sees,

And eats the slop of the swine it feeds

But soon I see my blind estate,

Disgusted by sin’s bitter taste,

“No condemnation” my heart well knows,

But following, my life is slow

And now i weep, not for a stain,

But for dishonour to Christ’s name,

I see the nails, the piercéd side,

The brutal pain in which He died,

The sweat and blood which soak His face,

The wrath He bore to save a race,

“My God, O God,” I trembling cry

“Why hadst Thou forsaken Christ?

“So we might chase what we thought best?

“And drown our hearts in selfishness?

“That pride should breathe His foulest breath,

“To trust my strength in which is death?

“We’ve no plea, yea,  but one:

“O Holy Lord, look on Thy Son.”

Yet as we raise our desperate cry,

We see the One who brought us nigh,

The Sun of Righteousness, so sweet,

Adoringly we kiss His feet,

Because He died for all our grief,

We count guilt as a lying thief,

Because Hades held not the Son,

He’ll finish all He has begun,

Because we sing, “He paid it all,”

Sin cannot claim us as a thrall,

Because we now with Him are raised,

To righteousness we now are slaves,

The power’s gone, the debt is paid,

To Christ we now can look for aid,

So let our hearts present Him praise:

We’re freed to serve Him all our days.

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