The old, old story

I love to tell the story of unseen things above, of Jesus and his glory, of Jesus and his love. I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true; it satisfies my longings as nothing else can do. I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory, to tell the old, old story of Jesus and his love.

It’s an old, old song, the lyrics written in 1866. It’s a song I grew up singing, and it’s the song that crept in to my mind yesterday as I stood in the choir loft and sang a new song, “You Alone Can Rescue.”

Who, oh Lord, could save themselves, Their own soul could heal? Our shame was deeper than the sea Your grace is deeper still You came down to find us, led us out of death ou, oh Lord, have made a way The great divide You heal For when our hearts were far away Your love went further still Yes, your love goes further still

As I sang those lyrics, I was overwhelmed again by the gospel. Because these days, I realize how often I need to hear the gospel. I need to sing of the Savior. I need to acknowledge the deepness of my sin and shame. I need to acknowledge my need. I need to proclaim that God has made away, that love covers a multitude of sins, that when my heart was (and sometimes still is) far away, God makes a way. I need the power of the gospel in my daily life. I need to know I’m loved. I need to know that God brings life from death. I need to understand that God keeps His promises. I need to know that there is hope and purpose and a plan.

I need the old, old story because I know it’s true, because it truly fills my longings as nothing else can do.