‘Twas He That Sought the Lost

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53:6

I am of the opinion that many folks have never been “lost” much less “found”. When a person realizes that they are helplessly, hopelessly lost they will be glad to hear of a seeking Shepherd. Until then, the gospel will just be an “idle tale” for weak-minded people who “need a crutch”.

Speaking of the Holy Spirit dealing with sinners  Horatius Bonar states the following,

“He loves the sinner; therefore He lays hold of him. He pities his misery; therefore He stretches out the hand of help. He has no pleasure in his death; therefore He puts forth His saving power. He is longsuffering and patient; therefore He strives with him day by day; and though “vexed,” “resisted,” “grieved,” and “quenched,” He refuses to retire from, or give up, any sinner on this side of eternity. The extent to which we resist Him, and the amount of His forbearing love, we cannot know. This only we may say, that our stubbornness is something infinitely fearful and malignant, while His patient grace passeth all understanding.”

Have you ever been lost? Or are you still trying to work your own way out?

Shawn

I Was a Wandering Sheep

I was a wand’ring sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd’s voice,
I would not be controlled.
I was a wayward child,
I did not love my home;
I did not love my Father’s voice,
I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought his sheep,
The Father sought his child;
They followed me o’er vale and hill,
O’er deserts waste and wild:
They found me nigh to death,
Famished and faint and lone;
They bound me with the bands of love,
They saved the wand’ring one.

Jesus my Shepherd is;
‘Twas he that loved my soul,
‘Twas he that washed me in his blood,
‘Twas he that made me whole;

‘Twas he that sought the lost,
That found the wand’ring sheep,
‘Twas he that brought me to the fold,
‘Tis he that still doth keep.

I was a wand’ring sheep,
I would not be controlled;
But now I love my Shepherd’s voice,
I love, I love the fold.
I was a wayward child,
I once preferred to roam;
But now I love my Father’s voice,
I love, I love his home.

Horatius Bonar  1808-1889

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