Wednesday, August 29, 2012

"My Children, Lord, and I"

“And ye shall take a bunch of hyssop, and dip it in the blood that is in the bason, and strike the lintel and the two side posts with the blood that is in the bason…the LORD will pass over the door, and will not suffer the destroyer to come in unto your houses to smite you.”  (Exo. 12:22-23)

            God’s means of protection for His people has always been blood, from the lambs of the Old Testament to the Lamb of God in the New. It hides sin and provides a safeguard against His wrath. In the contest between Himself and Pharaoh, His final blow was to be a death in every house in Egypt (v. 30). Either a lamb or a firstborn. His promise to the children of Israel was that if they would apply the blood of an innocent lamb to the lintel over the door and on the two side posts, the death angel would pass over their homes and their families would be saved.

            This has always been God’s plan (Gen. 7:1; Acts 16:31). Paul told Timothy it was God’s will for “all men to be saved” (1 Tim. 2:4); but they won’t all be saved. I cannot reconcile this with the fact that I know His will cannot be broken, but I believe both are true. And I know that not all children of believing parents come to the Faith. But I do know all believing parents want them to.

            I found the following little poem in H.A. Ironside’s devotional collection, The Continual Burnt Offering. It speaks words of my own heart and the heart of every Christian mother I know. No title or author is supplied.

“O thou who gave them, guard them—those wayward little feet,
The wilderness before them, the ills of life to meet.
My mother-love is helpless, I trust them to Thy care!
Beneath the blood-stained lintel, oh, keep me ever there!

The faith I rest upon Thee Thou wilt not disappoint,
With wisdom, Lord, to train them my shrinking heart anoint,
Without my children, Father, I cannot see Thy face;
I plead the blood-stained lintel, Thy covenant of grace.

Oh, wonderful Redeemer, who suffered for our sake,
When o’er the guilty nations the judgment storm shall break,
With joy from that safe shelter may we then meet Thine eye,
Beneath the blood-stained lintel, my children, Lord, and I.                                                                             

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