Not What My Hands Have Done
As I sit here typing, a bright beam of sunshine streams through my window this morning. Making the room bright and my heart full of hope. It is supposed to be a warm day and I have plans to go outside and absorb some of that sunshine. Hope is on the horizon for us right now.
And I am reminded, there is always hope for me in Christ. Always. Not just when I feel it because I can see sunshine, but always. Through the clouds and through the rain.
I have learned throughout the years of being taught under my pastor, Bill Vogler, and reading and listening to Jerry Bridges, to preach the gospel to myself each day. It is as if the joy of the gospel is too wonderful for us to really wrap our little minds around, and hold onto. And then there is the fallen world that is pressing in on us from all sides and we forget. So, we must preach ourselves the gospel every day.
Today, I would like to do that by sharing this poem with you:
Not What My Hands Have Done
By Horatius Bonar
Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my pressing load.
Your voice alone, O Lord, can speak to me of grace;
Your power alone, O Son of God, can all my sin erase.
No other work but Yours, no other blood will do;
No strength but that which is divine can bear me safely through.
Thy work alone, O Christ, can ease my 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.
I bless the Christ of God; I rest on love divine;
And with unfaltering lip and heart I call this Savior mine.
His cross dispels each doubt; I bury in His tomb
Each thought of unbelief and fear, each lingering shade of gloom.
I praise the God of grace; I trust His truth and might;
He calls me His, I call Him mine, My God, my joy and light.
’Tis He Who saveth me, and freely pardon gives;
I love because He loveth me, I live because He lives.
I have learned throughout the years of being taught under my pastor, Bill Vogler, and reading and listening to Jerry Bridges, to preach the gospel to myself each day. It is as if the joy of the gospel is too wonderful for us to really wrap our little minds around, and hold onto. And then there is the fallen world that is pressing in on us from all sides and we forget. So, we must preach ourselves the gospel every day.
Today, I would like to do that by sharing this poem with you:
By Horatius Bonar
Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my pressing load.
Your voice alone, O Lord, can speak to me of grace;
Your power alone, O Son of God, can all my sin erase.
No other work but Yours, no other blood will do;
No strength but that which is divine can bear me safely through.
Thy work alone, O Christ, can ease my 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.
I bless the Christ of God; I rest on love divine;
And with unfaltering lip and heart I call this Savior mine.
His cross dispels each doubt; I bury in His tomb
Each thought of unbelief and fear, each lingering shade of gloom.
I praise the God of grace; I trust His truth and might;
He calls me His, I call Him mine, My God, my joy and light.
’Tis He Who saveth me, and freely pardon gives;
I love because He loveth me, I live because He lives.
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