Wednesday, January 09, 2008


O how Satan would triumph if any saint ever fell out of the embraces of the good Shepherd; if he could point his derisive finger up to heaven’s gate and to its risen King, and say, ‘Thy blood was shed in vain for this wretch; he is mine, he is mine!’ such a boast would fill hell with a yell of triumph. But no, no; it never will be so; the “blood that cleanseth from all sin” never was, never can be shed in vain. Though the reed is “bruised,” it will never be broken; though the flax “smokes,” it will never be extinguished; for He that “sends forth judgment” sends it ‘unto victory.”

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