Jesus sought me when a stranger

Good Monday morning, my friends.

My family and I had the great privilege of witnessing the baptism of four wonderful friends yesterday.  We heard four very different and amazing stories about how God reached out to each of them and how He revealed Himself to them over a period of time.  I was reminded of something William Paul Young, author of The Shack, said in reply to an interviewer's question.  Young was asked if he believed that all roads (i.e. all belief systems) lead to God.  He replied that he did not believe that all roads led to God, but that God would go down any road to find us.  I really like that.  I think of my own journey and how lost I was on the "backroads" of life, and how God came to me where I was and let me back to the Path.  To quote a line from the beautiful hymn "Come, Thou Fount of every blessing":

Jesus sought me when a stranger,

Wandering from the fold of God

And even now, when I am "prone to wander" as this same hymn goes on to speak of, God never tires of chasing after me and bringing me back.  We are truly, truly blessed to have this wonderful Saviour, this Font of every blessing.  

Thank you to the friends who allowed us to share in their special day, and for sharing your great stories of God's love and "streams of mercy".

Grace and peace be yours in abundance,

Bruce

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;

Streams of mercy, never ceasing,

Call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet,

Sung by flaming tongues above.

Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,

Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,

Till released from flesh and sin,

Yet from what I do inherit,

Here Thy praises I'll begin;

Here I raise my Ebenezer;

Here by Thy great help I've come;

And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,

Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,

Wandering from the fold of God;

He, to rescue me from danger,

Interposed His precious blood;

How His kindness yet pursues me

Mortal tongue can never tell,

Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me

I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor

Daily I'm constrained to be!

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here's my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning,

I shall see Thy lovely face;

Clothed then in blood washed linen

How I'll sing Thy sovereign grace;

Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,

Take my ransomed soul away;

Send thine angels now to carry

Me to realms of endless day.

Robert Robinson

(http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/c/o/comethou.htm)

Bruce MacPherson  macpherson@celtic.ca / Blog: The Celtic Christian / Home: 613.489.4174 Cell: 613.720.0821 You are receiving this email because you have requested it or I felt you would be interested in this material. If you would like to be removed from this email list, please do not hesitate to contact me at the above email address. Likewise, if you know of someone else who you believe would appreciate receiving these messages, please let me know.