SABBATH MORN


And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?

Died He for me, who caused His pain—
For me, who Him to death pursued?

Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

Long ago at Camp, Thanksgiving family camp to be exact, I stood as a child in the stone lodge with my family.  I was not a follower of Christ then, but I was in a room surrounded by them.  The fire in the huge riverstone fireplace raged, cracked, sang along.  I felt so comforted as 200'ish acappella voices about me boomed this hymn over the Texas Hill Country.  My father seemed to sing with his whole heart - I remember questioning why in my mind.  Men and women sang with everything in them.  I didnt "get" it.  But Something that had always been there within me stirred.   The memory is seared in my mind.   

I was being woo'ed.

Now this morning I sit mountainside with my God on my Sabbath day.  As an adult who knows both Charles Wesley and his inspiring mother as much as reading will allow, I see such layers to this song.  A woman of extreme circumstances who devoted herself (regardless) to life-giving mothering, a child who flourished in the garden of love she provided.  That child who grew into a man who contributed his art to the Christian faith in a way that endures even today.  And the modern voices who still sing this today because its truth is so vibrant and piercing.  And the God who ordained it all for His Glory.

Amazing love.  How can it be?

Me?

Crying in the coffeeshop again....good grief.

For O my God, it found out me!

Sing with me?