I searched, but only carefully
I pored through every book I could
And finding all the facts laid out,
I took the ones I thought were good.



I organized these chosen facts
Into my childhood’s frame of mind
And those that did not seem so good,
Towards them I carefully was blind.



I grew, and took the battlefield
As every child must someday do.
And every foe that cut me down,
Seemed only to my faith renew.



I mourned at every telling blow
That sought to find the killing thrust.
And on the field of battle I
Found power, comfort, hope and trust.



As one by one by childish thoughts
Were yearly, roughly cast apart
A solid rock would not be moved,
An iron core of soul and heart.



See, all my loss to date was nil.
And brief was all the pain implied:
My God could not be hurt or killed
For He, because of me, had died.



Does God need me to save His Name,
Who paid a universe’s loss?
He died, but conquered Death itself,
By nailing it upon a cross.



Do not bemoan the cast down things;
Beliefs that can be shaken, should.
Unshaken God is lifted up:
One man, three nails, and roughened wood.

— Travis Johnson, The Paring Way (Note: Travis is part of Downtown Cornerstone Church. He recently sent this to me and I couldn’t help but post it.)
Look at Him; and the more we look at Him, the more hopeless shall we feel by ourselves, and in and of ourselves, and the more shall we become ‘poor in spirit’. Look at Him, keep looking at Him. Look at the saints, look at the men who have been most filled with the Spirit and used. But above all, look again at Him, and then you will have nothing to do to yourself. It will be done. You cannot truly look at Him without feeling your absolute poverty, and emptiness. Then you say to Him, ‘Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling.’
— Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount (p42)
Getting the glory of Christ before your eyes and keeping it there, is the greatest work of the Spirit that I can imagine. Think much of the Savior’s work suffering for you on that dreadful cross, think much of your sin that provoked such suffering, and then enter that faith into the love that took away your sin and guilt, and then give your work your best.
— Letter from Jack Miller to a young missionary couple in Uganda
The cross does not merely inform us of something, something that may be “above,” or “behind” it. It attacks and afflicts us. Knowledge of God comes when God happens to us, when God does himself to us. We are crucified with Christ (Gal 2:19). The sinner, the old being, neither knows nor speaks the truth abou God and consequently can only be put to death by the action of God.
— Gerhard Forde, On Being a Theologian of the Cross (p90)