This morning we had eight baptisms at church, including the sons of two families in our fellowship group, and one new family in our church that was baptized all together... four children, both parents.
There are moments when a basement sanctuary and a bathtub draped in cloth become such tangible places of grace and mercy and hope that it brings tears. God can take such ordinary stuff, such ordinary lives, and use them for his glory. Nothing, in his economy, is ever plain or throw-away or not worth loving. I am deeply grateful for that.
This was the hymn we sang at close of service:
How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory
Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished
I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom
(lyrics by Stuart Townend)
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