HAVE we outlived the efficacy of the blood of Christ, and is the tale of His cross a sound from which all the music has gone forever? We need the sun today, as we have ever needed it; the wind is still the breath of health to our dying bodies; still we find in the earth the bread without which we cannot live; these are our friends of whom we never tire; can it be that the only thing of which we are weary is God’s answer to our soul’s deepest need? Shall we keep everything but the blood of Christ?
Shall the cross go, and the sun be left? Verily, as the sun withdrew at sight of that cross, and for the moment fled away, he would shine never more, were that sacred tree hewn down by furious men.
The blood of Christ, it is the fountain of immortality! The blood of Christ, it makes the soul’s summer warm and beauteous! The blood of Christ, it binds all heaven, with its many mansions and throngs without number, in holy and indissoluble security! My soul, seek no other stream in which to drown thy leprosy! My lips, speak no other song with which to charge your music! My hands, seek no other task with which to prove your energy! I would be swallowed up in Christ.
O my Saviour! Thine heart was pierced for me, and all its sacred blood flowed for the cleansing of my sin. I need it all. I search out the inmost recesses of my poor wild heart, and let Thy blood remove every stain of evil.
“E’er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme.
And shall be till I die.”
ML 06/26/1927