Some orthopraxy, I suppose.

I've learned that I misunderstood the analogy from the sermon the Sunday before last, the one that evoked my doxology. 

The cheque for five million dollars the pastor promised us (and I still haven't received.... rude) was not described primarily to prompt us to tell others about the great, unbelievable, life-changing gift we'd received. No--when the pastor asked rhetorically, "You would say something, right?" he meant that we would tell the giver of the great, unbelievable, life-changing gift about our gratitude.

It seems rather obvious now, and it seems like just as obvious a response as telling others because good is good.


I thought a follow-up post should contain some orthopraxy [correctness or orthodoxy of action or practice].


But I haven't the words to say it. I've been crying and scrambling and cobbling through my whole Christian life to try to get just ONE legitimate "thank You" out of my mouth to show my gratitude to my Savior but I just can't. I can't find the bottom of it, I can't find the language, I can't do anything justice.


Some talented poets have worked hard and done better than I. Let's quote them.


O for a thousand tongues to sing
my Great Redeemer's praise,
the glories of my God and King,
the triumphs of His grace.

The myst'ry of the Cross I cannot comprehend
the agonies of Calvary.
You the perfect holy One crushed Your Son
and drank the bitter cup reserved for me.

Your blood has washed away my sin,
Jesus, thank You.
The Father's wrath completely satisfied;
Jesus, thank You.
Once Your enemy, now seated at Your table;
Jesus, thank You.

Son of Adam, Son of heav'n
given as a ransom,
reconciling God and man,
Christ our mighty Champion.
What a Savior, what a Friend,
what a glorious myst'ry:
once a babe in Bethlehem,
now the Lord of history.

When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue
lies silent in the grave,
then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing Thy pow'r to save:

I'll sing Thy pow'r to save,

I'll sing Thy pow'r to save;

Then in a nobler, sweeter song,

I'll sing Thy pow'r to save. 

O to see my name written in the wounds,

for through your suff'ring, I am free.

Death is crushed to death; life is mine to live,

won through Your selfless love. 

This the pow'r of the cross:

Son of God--slain for us;

What a love! What a cost!

We stand forgiven at the cross.

I'll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death

and praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;

And say when the death-dew lies cold on my brow,

"If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now."

Thank You for the way that You love us,
how you love us.
Thank You for the way You have made us.
We were created for Your pleasure
for Your presence, for the glory of Your name.
Thank You, for the way that You love us. 

Jesus, faithful King,
Lord, with grateful hearts we sing:
how great is the love, how great is the love of our Savior!
The weight of the cross, the curse of our shame,
You carried it all and rose from the grave--
how great is the love, how great is the love of our Savior!

I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene
and wonder how He could love me, a sinner, condemned unclean.

How marvellous! how wonderful!
and my song shall ever be:
How marvellous! how wonderful
is my Saviour's love for me.