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September 27th Evening
“My Beloved put in His hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for Him.” — Song of Solomon 5:4
Knocking was not enough, for my heart was too full of sleep, too cold and ungrateful to arise and open the door, but the touch of His effectual grace has made my soul bestir itself. Oh, the longsuffering of my Beloved, to tarry when He found Himself shut out, and me asleep upon the bed of sloth! Oh, the greatness of His patience, to knock and knock again, and to add His voice to His knockings, beseeching me to open to Him! How could I have refused Him! Base heart, blush and be confounded! But what greatest kindness of all is this, that He becomes…
His own porter and unbars
the door Himself. Thrice blessed is the hand which condescends to lift the
latch and turn the key. Now I see that nothing but my Lord’s own power
can save such a naughty mass of wickedness as I am; ordinances fail, even
the gospel has no effect upon me, till His hand is stretched out. Now, also,
I perceive that His hand is good where all else is unsuccessful, He can open
when nothing else will. Blessed be His name, I feel His gracious presence
even now. Well may my bowels move for Him, when I think of all that He
has suffered for me, and of my ungenerous return. I have allowed my
affections to wander. I have set up rivals. I have grieved Him. Sweetest and
dearest of all beloveds, I have treated Thee as an unfaithful wife treats her
husband. Oh, my cruel sins, my cruel self. What can I do? Tears are a poor
show of my repentance, my whole heart boils with indignation at myself.
Wretch that I am, to treat my Lord, my All in All, my exceeding great joy,
as though He were a stranger. Jesus, thou forgivest freely, but this is not
enough, prevent my unfaithfulness in the future. Kiss away these tears,
and then purge my heart and bind it with sevenfold cords to Thyself, never
to wander more.
To make sure you never miss an episode, please subscribe today wherever you listen to podcasts.
Producer: Todd Adkins
Voice Artist: Ian Cullen
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“My Beloved put in His hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for Him.” — Song of Solomon 5:4
Knocking was not enough, for my heart was too full of sleep, too cold and ungrateful to arise and open the door, but the touch of His effectual grace has made my soul bestir itself. Oh, the longsuffering of my Beloved, to tarry when He found Himself shut out, and me asleep upon the bed of sloth! Oh, the greatness of His patience, to knock and knock again, and to add His voice to His knockings, beseeching me to open to Him! How could I have refused Him! Base heart, blush and be confounded! But what greatest kindness of all is this, that He becomes…
His own porter and unbars
the door Himself. Thrice blessed is the hand which condescends to lift the
latch and turn the key. Now I see that nothing but my Lord’s own power
can save such a naughty mass of wickedness as I am; ordinances fail, even
the gospel has no effect upon me, till His hand is stretched out. Now, also,
I perceive that His hand is good where all else is unsuccessful, He can open
when nothing else will. Blessed be His name, I feel His gracious presence
even now. Well may my bowels move for Him, when I think of all that He
has suffered for me, and of my ungenerous return. I have allowed my
affections to wander. I have set up rivals. I have grieved Him. Sweetest and
dearest of all beloveds, I have treated Thee as an unfaithful wife treats her
husband. Oh, my cruel sins, my cruel self. What can I do? Tears are a poor
show of my repentance, my whole heart boils with indignation at myself.
Wretch that I am, to treat my Lord, my All in All, my exceeding great joy,
as though He were a stranger. Jesus, thou forgivest freely, but this is not
enough, prevent my unfaithfulness in the future. Kiss away these tears,
and then purge my heart and bind it with sevenfold cords to Thyself, never
to wander more.
To make sure you never miss an episode, please subscribe today wherever you listen to podcasts.
Producer: Todd Adkins
Voice Artist: Ian Cullen
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