Answer to ‘Tis a Point

A short time ago I shared a beautiful little poem by John Newton: ‘Tis a Point I Long to Know. In that poem Newton professes the universal experience of the Christian in our searching, our wondering, our perplexity, and, eventually, our confidence. After I posted it, I learned that a friend of Newton’s penned a poetic response titled “Answer to ‘Tis a Point.”” I hope you’ll read it (aloud!) and be encouraged by it. What is this point you long …

’Tis a Point I Long to Know

So much of the beauty of poetry is finding words that express your soul. Poetry has a way of expressing both our conscious thoughts and our unconscious desires. Such is the case with this little poem I dug up recently. It’s an old one, written many years ago by John Newton. He expresses the universal experience of the Christian in our searching, our wondering, our perplexity, and, eventually, our confidence. The poem is titled “’Tis a Point I Long to …

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The Long Goodnight

Earlier this week I was chatting with Matthew Smith, he of Indelible Grace fame. Matthew has just finished recording a new record (a personal album, not an Indelible Grace album) and he allowed me to listen to it. There was one song in particular that gripped me. The words come from an old German hymn of unknown authorship which was later translated by Jane Borthwick. It was printed in Hymns from the Land of Luther under the title “The Long …

A Sunday Christian

Every Easter Saturday, that day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, I find myself pondering what it must have been like for Jesus’ followers on that day. What did they do? What were they thinking? How did they spend their day? What thoughts were running through their heads? Their leader was dead; their Messiah had been arrested, beaten, crucified, killed, buried. Miracles had attended his suffering–darkness and earthquake–and yet still he was dead. Confusion must have reigned. Bewilderment. It’s no …

A Time To Talk

Today I encountered, “A Time To Talk,” a little poem by Robert Frost. I’d suggest that, unlike some poetry, it needs little explanation. A little reflection wouldn’t hurt, though. When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don’t stand still and look around On all the hills I haven’t hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust …

Life of the Soul

A friend sent me this poem/hymn. I thought you’d enjoy it as I did. ***** When sins and fears prevailing rise, And fainting hope almost expires; Jesus, to Thee I lift mine eyes, To Thee I breathe my soul’s desires. Art Thou not mine, my living Lord; And can my hope, my comfort die, Fixed on Thy everlasting word, That word which built the earth and sky? Since my immortal Saviour lives, Then my immortal life is sure; His word …