Tuesday, September 7, 2010

An offering in righteousness


Malachi 3:3

And he shall sit as a refiner and purifer of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.

As predicted, the first days upon the journey will be most difficult. Determining to arise before day, I overslept and woke with just enough time to prepare for work. On the twenty-mile ride this evening, a hard pace was sought. In the first miles from home, the body, not used to the effort, strained to keep pace with the intention. By the final miles with dusk fading into the darkness, the pace quickened and the body found the effort less taxing. Yet, compared to the years of yore, a far cry.

The ride of silence was a continual prayer. A prayer to refine this body of sin, to purge the dross, the dregs. My only offering an offering that I cannot even produce. Righteousness. Thus, my efforts to offer to Him my life, my time, my talents, all but foul smelling stench.
My righteousness vain. Nothing can I bring. Nothing can I boast. Resting quietly in the hands of one who shall refine, who shall supply, who shall provide the offering in righteousness.

I shall simply leave you with another hymn from the old Methodist Hymnal, page 33.

All beautiful the march of days
Francis Wile 1878-1939

All beautiful the march of days
As seasons come and go;
The hand that shaped the rose hath wrought
The crystal of the snow,
Hath sent the hoary frost of heaven,
The flowing waters sealed,
And laid a silent lovliness
On hill and wood and field.

O'er white expanses sparkling pure
The radiant morns unfold;
The solemn splendors of the night
Burn brighter through the cold,
Life mounts every throbbing vein,
Love deepens round the hearh,
And clearer sounds the angel hymn,
"Good will to men on earth."

O thou from whose unfathomed law
The year in beauty flows,
Thyself the vision passing by
In crystal and in rose,
Day unto day doth utter speech
And night to night proclaim,
In ever changing words of light,
The wonder of thy name.
Amen.
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1 comment:

  1. Poor little mockingbird was found dead on the road. I picked him up,brushed off the ants and carried him over to the place with the sunset in the background. It was a symbol of my offering to the Lord...as well as my being the bird, being offered to the Lord, a creature dead in his trespasses and sins.

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