Sunday Hymn

I love this hymn. I sing it when I need to remember that "whoever believe in him is not condemned..." (John 3:18a). I sing it when I am sore from sin and in need of the grace that is found only in Jesus. I sing it when I need to praise the God of all mercy and my own words fail.

I love this version by Caedmon's Call.



Thy Mercy, My God

Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,
The joy of my heart. and the boast of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,
Hath won my affections, and bound my soul fast.

Without Thy sweet mercy I could not live here;
Sin would reduce me to utter despair;
But, through Thy free goodness, my spirits revive,
And He that first made me still keeps me alive.

Thy mercy is more than a match for my heart,
Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart;
Dissolved by Thy goodness, I fall to the ground,
And weep to the praise of the mercy I’ve found.

Great Father of mercies, Thy goodness I own,
And the covenant love of Thy crucified Son;
All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.

All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.

Words: John Stocker
Music: Sandra McCracken

©2001 Same Old Dress Music (ASCAP).

Sunday Hymn

Man of Sorrows! what a name
For the Son of God, who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim:
Hallelujah, What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned he stood;
Sealed my pardon with his blood:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Guilty, vile, and helpless, we;
Spotless Lamb of God was he,
Full atonement! Can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Lifted up was he to die,
"It is finished!" was his cry;
Now in heaven, exalted high:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

When he comes, our glorious King,
All his ransomed home to bring,
Then anew this song we'll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

-P.P Bliss, 1838-1876

Progress

To honestly confess your sin and failure brings one to the point of despair time and again. Where can we flee when we know that we are "nothing else but sin"? To see the depth of your sin is a wonderful thing though. It makes the Gospel so glorious.

Yesterday in church we sang a hymn that brought tears to my eyes. I try so hard to get it right instead of resting in the finished work of Christ. Such arrogance on my part, such blindness to the beauty of Christ, but there is forgiveness.

"Thy work alone, O Christ,
Can ease this weight of sin
Thy blood alone O Lamb of God,
Can give me peace within.
Thy love to me O God,
Not mine, O Lord, to Thee
Can rid me of this dark unrest
And set my spirit free!"

- "Not What My Hands Have Done" by Horatius Bonar

I am a slow learner when it comes to all that it means to be "in Christ", but by God's grace I continue the journey. Such sweet progress, however slowly, to such a glorious Destination.

It Is Finished

Hark, the voice of love and mercy,
Sounds aloud from Calvary!
See, it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth and veils the sky!
"It is finished, It is finished,"
Hear the dying Savior cry.
"It is finished, It is finished,"
Hear the dying Savior cry.

"It is finished," O, what pleasure,
Do these charming words afford.
Heav'nly blessings, without measure,
Flow to us from Christ the Lord.
"It is finished", It is finished,"
Saints the dying words record.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints the dying words record.

Finished all the types and shadows,
Of the ceremonial law;
Finished all that God has promies;
Death and hell no more shall awe.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints from hence your comfort draw.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints from hence your comfort draw.

Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs;
Join to sing the pleasing theme.
Saints on earth and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel's name.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!

~ Jonathan Evans, 1784 & Benjamin Francis, 1787
Taken from the Gadsby Hymnal #93

A Sunday Hymn

Help My Unbelief

I know the Lord is nigh,

And would but cannot pray,

For Satan meets me when I try,

And frights my soul away.

And frights my soul away.

I would but can't repent,

Though I endeavor oft;

This stony heart can ne'er relent

Till Jesus makes it soft.

Till Jesus make it soft.

I would but cannot love,

Though wooed by love divine;

No arguments have power to move

A soul as base as mine.

A soul so base as mine.

I would but cannot rest,

In God's most holy will;

I know what He appoints is best,

And murmur at it still.

I murmer at it still.

Help my unbelief. Help my unbelief. Help my unbelief.

My help must come from Thee.

- John Newton, 1725-1807

Chorus:Clint Wells

We sang this hymn at church today. I think it beautifully highlights our complete inability to make ourselves right with God. Even repentance is a gift. I needed to pray this hymn today. I would, but cannot...Jesus, I need You to change my heart and turn it toward You. Mercifully grant me repentance and love for You according to Your will.