I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.
A Sonnet, Melodious or Otherwise
Yesterday I challenged you to try your hand at writing a sonnet. Here’s my effort.
No Cowper, Crosby, Newton, Watts, or Stowe
Can wring the language dry of rave acclaim
Of Christ whose attestations tower higher. No!
Their pens run out of ink before the Name
Finds written all that poets could describe
Of endless power, limitless domain.
Not every fluent tongue from every tribe
If speaking all at once could ever drain
The lexicon of that which could be said
About the One who gives his son to die,
The One who raises Jesus from the dead.
The poets fail. The hymnists, too. And I.
We know we fail, but strive for lyric lines
To voice our happy praise of his designs.