A Couple of Thoughts

"I plead for mercy from the God of grace."

   I seem to be crying for help so often lately. I cannot come before my God, nor think of His character, His call, or His commands without pleading for help for what I cannot do, cannot approach, and cannot hear without his help. The human inside of me struggles to understand that He does not grow weary of those pleas--surely, when it is the tenth time for this day of this year, where every day of the year so far as been the same, surely He must be weary of this plea? My head says he is not; my heart trembles, trying to believe.

   But today I remembered--I plead, yes, plead, pouring out supplication, cries, for mercy. Mercy, for me, a sinner; my God, mercy. I am a sinner. Mercy, my God, I cannot stand before you; mercy, I have failed your will and your word. Mercy.

   From the God of grace. I remembered that to be God of something is to own it, understand it, create it. God created grace. Who could understand it better?

   Who could give it more?

   I plead, on my knees, for mercy, for a sinner, from the God who created and loves grace. If I must plead for mercy (and I must), tis wondrous that I may do so before the God of grace. I come, knowing that He will give mercy, for he gives grace, forgiveness, righteousness, and strength intertwined. Oh God of grace, may my heart ever be turned in gratitude and wonder to you.

"So let me learn that the cross precedes the crown,"

--Sovereign Grace, "In the Valley"

    In the song, this is sung so that we might remember that the crown is not adorning us now, that painless, effortless victory is not ours now. The cross comes first. But I heard it the other direction. 

   I do not struggle with believing that we bear a cross now. I hear it, see it, taste it, and struggle underneath it even now. I see my struggle reflected in the spoken stories of my friends, my family, my Christ's siblings. I know, dimly, that there will be a crown someday, that we will stand as images of the glorious God, freely and joyfully hurling our crowns to His feet. But that is a dim picture that resembles a snapshot of Hawaii in an Alaskan winter. Reading I Peter, I find I am to hope, and to hope strongly, in the joy that is coming. That hope is to sustain my faith and create in me a joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, now. What dim, dusty, bent postcard of a Hawaiian beach could do that when it is dark, frozen, and deadly at three in the afternoon? So the crown must be more now than a picture, more than an image in my imagination, shaped by Revelation's word. It is a promise that we taste now. 

   I still do not know how, but it is good to remember, that the cross precedes the crown. The cross is not all, not even most, for it temporary, and the crown for Christ's glory is eternal. God give all His children to hope and to be purified in the hope that He gives (I John). In the name of Christ, eternal victor, eternal King, amen!