it's almost 2 am. i can't sleep. obviously. i'm like the queen of rhetorical statements. i think that's a paradox. since i'm devoid of slumber i'm slightly ridiculous. but that's okay. someone who's also ridiculous but in the best way possible and in a way i'd like to be: Charles Haddon Spurgeon. that guy is a dude and a half. here's an excerpt from his autobiographical works i've been mulling over as late:
finally, i bear my witness that he is full of truth. true have his promises been; not one has failed. i have often doubted him - for that i blush. he has never failed me; in this i must rejoice. his promises have been yea and amen. i do but speak the testimony of every believer in christ, though i put it thus personally to make it the more forcible. i bear witness that never servant had such a master as i have; never a brother had such a kinsman as he has been to me; never a spouse had such a husband as christ has been to my soul; never a sinner a better savior; never a solider a better captain; never a mourner a better comforter than christ has been to my spirit. i want none beside him. in life, he is my life, and in death, he shall be the death of death. in poverty, christ is my riches. in sickness, he makes my bed. in darkness, he is my star. and in brightness, he is my sun. by faith i understand that the blessed son of god redeemed my soul with his own heart's blood, and by sweet experience i know that he raised me up from the pit of dark despair and set my feet on the rock. he died for me. this is the root of every satisfaction i have. he put all my transgressions away. he cleansed me with his precious blood; he covered me with his perfect righteousness; he wrapped me up in his own virtues. he has promised to keep me, while i abide in this world, from its temptations and snares. and when i depart from this world, he has already prepared for me a mansion in the heaven of unfading bliss, and a crown of everlasting joy that shall never, never fade away. to me, then, the days or years of my mortal sojourn on this earth are of little moment. nor is the manner of my decease of much consequence. should foemen sentence me to martyrdom or physicians declare that i must soon depart this life, it is all alike.
what more can i wish than that, while my brief term on earth shall last, i should be the servant of him who became the servant of servants for me?
what a guy, what a guy. i want to desire and know my lord with the same vehemence of that of the brother spurgeon.
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