Like sands through an hourglass...

Every passing year is a time for reflection upon God's many blessings. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's" (Ps 103:2-5).

But even as we look back, we also look forward. The sure hope that we have to face the future is our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of his death and resurrection, we can look forward with confidence to the coming days, as many days as God gives us. The cross of Christ bears unchanging witness to God's faithfulness and truthfulness. If we belong to Christ, then we can be assured that he will never leave us nor forsake us. Every passing year brings us closer to our Lord Jesus. "Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed" (Rom 13:11b).

Since this is the final day of 2007, I thought it appropriate to reproduce here the words of one of my favourite hymns. The words are written by Anne Ross Cousin (1824-1906), and are based on the letters of Samuel Rutherford. It is a hymn that lifts our gaze above this passing world and fixes it upon our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who will return to complete our redemption. May our love for Christ grow in the coming year as we live in hope of heaven!

THE sands of time are sinking,

The dawn of heaven breaks;

The summer morn I've sighed for,

The fair, sweet morn, awakes:

Dark, dark has been the midnight,

But dayspring is at hand,

And glory, glory dwelleth

In Emmanuel's land.

O Christ, He is the fountain,

The deep, sweet well of love;

The streams on earth I've tasted,

More deep I'll drink above:

There, to an ocean fulness,

His mercy doth expand,

And glory, glory dwelleth

In Emmanuel's land.

With mercy and with judgment,

My web of time He wove;

And e'en the dews of sorrow

Were lustred with His love;

I'll bless the hand that guided,

I'll bless the heart that planned,

When throned where glory dwelleth

In Emmanuel's land.

The bride eyes not her garment,

But her dear bridegroom's face;

I will not gaze at glory,

But on my King of grace,

I rest upon His merit,

I know no other stand:

The Lamb is all the glory

Of Emmanuel's land.

I've wrestled on towards Heaven,

'Gainst storm and wind and tide;

Now, like a weary traveller

Who leans upon his guide,

Amid the shades of evening,

While sinks life's lingering sand,

I'll hail the glory dawning

From Emmanuel's land.