Sprinkled afresh
When Christ is with us we are safe,
for what wolf can rend a sheep when it is close to the shepherd’s hand?
When we are away from Jesus, we are not only in peril, but are already despoiled;
to lose fellowship with Jesus is loss enough in itself, even if no further calamity occur.
Ships without a pilot, cities without watchmen,
babes without a nurse, are we without Jesus.
We cannot do without him, the less we attempt it the better. Samson without his locks is the sad type of a believer out of fellowship.
As well might the warrior go to battle without shield and buckler.
Should we not daily pray, “If thy presence go not with me, carry me not up hence”?
How can we go to our beds till he has kissed us with the kisses of his mouth?
May not even the dreams and visions of the night prove our bane
if our souls be not committed to his keeping?
For my part, I love to murmur to myself, as I place my head on my pillow,
those charming lines
—“Sprinkled afresh with pardoning blood,
I lay me down to rest, As in th’ embraces of my God,
Or on my Savior’s breast.”
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Reflection and inspiration
from the "Prince of Preachers,"
Charles Haddon Spurgeon.
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