Monthly Archives: January 2010

Shall I complain?

His way was much rougher, and darker than mine;
Did Jesus thus suffer, and shall I repine?

– John Newton –

Jesus’ way was so much dark, filled with agony, yet he endured, for what? For the joy that was set before him. Hebrews 12:2. “Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame

Did Jesus, the King of Heaven, The Creator of all the Earth, The Mighty God, and above all the Savior of my soul and my Shepherd, leave heaven and its glories and come down and suffer and never complain? And shall I, a sinner of the worst kind, an infidel in the eyes of God, a nobody, complain to God about my sufferings?

Why should I complain of want or distress,
Temptation or pain? He told me no less:
The heirs of salvation, I know from His Word,
Through much tribulation must follow their Lord.

– John Newton –

Shall the disciple be above his Master, and the servant above his Lord? Matthew 10:24, Luke 6:40.

Come! art thou ashamed to suffer what thy Master suffered? Shall the disciple be above his Master, and the servant above his Lord? Shall he die upon a cross, and wilt not thou bear the cross? Must he be crowned with thorns, and shalt thou be crowned with laurel? Is he to be pierced in hands and feet, and are thy members to feel no pain? O cast away the fond delusion I pray thee, and look to him who “endured the cross, despising the shame,” and be ready to endure and to suffer even as he did.

– Spurgeon –


John Newton Quote

“I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I want to be, I am not what I hope to be in another world; but still I am not what I once used to be, and by the grace of God I am what I am.”
— John Newton


How sweet the name of Jesus sounds!

“How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.”

A loving wife and mother lay dying. Her husband leaned over her, and said: “Do you know me, my darling?” “No,” said the dying woman, “I do not know who you are.” Her daughter came. “Mother, dear, surely you know me?” “No, I do not.” Then her husband tried again: “Do you know Jesus, my dear one?” “Jesus,” she said, and at the precious name the light came back into the pale face. “Jesus,” she repeated. “Yes, I know Him. He is my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,” and, even as she spoke, she passed away to be with Him for ever.

Let us never forget John Newton’s dying words. He said to Mr. Jay: “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things — that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Saviour.”


Begone Unbelief

A Hymn by John Newton, which I really like and the words in bold really touch me the most!

Begone unbelief, my Savior is near,
And for my relief will surely appear:
By prayer let me wrestle, and He wilt perform,
With Christ in the vessel, I smile at the storm.

Though dark be my way, since He is my Guide,
’Tis mine to obey, ’tis His to provide;
Though cisterns be broken, and creatures all fail,
The Word He has spoken shall surely prevail.

His love in time past forbids me to think
He’ll leave me at last in trouble to sink;

Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review,
Confirms His good pleasure to help me quite through.

Determined to save, He watched o’er my path,
When Satan’s blind slave, I sported with death;
And can He have taught me to trust in His Name,
And thus far have brought me, to put me to shame?

Why should I complain of want or distress,
Temptation or pain? He told me no less:
The heirs of salvation, I know from His Word,
Through much tribulation must follow their Lord.

How bitter that cup, no heart can conceive,
Which He drank quite up, that sinners might live!
His way was much rougher, and darker than mine;
Did Jesus thus suffer, and shall I repine?

Since all that I meet shall work for my good,
The bitter is sweet, the medicine is food;
Though painful at present, wilt cease before long,
And then, O! how pleasant, the conqueror’s song!

From Cyberhymnal :

A lady wrote from the Ci­ta­del of Cai­ro to Mr. Stead, ‘It is the hymn that I love best of the hun­dreds that I know; it has helped me scores of times in the dark days of my life, and has ne­ver failed to in­spire me with fresh hope and con­fi­dence when life looked “dark and drea­ry”; and it is dear to me from as­so­ci­a­tions with the mem­o­ry of the best of fa­thers. To him, in his ma­ny and sore troubles, it was a source of com­fort and help, and, I be­lieve, was to him a sort of link by which he held on to God. To me the words are not dog­ger­el at all, they are just love­ly. I oft­en go about sing­ing them when alone to help me on the way.’