I am pained with wondering at new opened treasures in Christ.
O that time would post faster and hasten our long looked-for communion with that fairest — fairest among the sons of men. He hath left a fire in my heart that hell cannot cast water on to quench or extinguish it.
I caused not Christ’s wind to blow upon me, his love came upon a withered creature whether I would or not; and yet by coming it procured from me a welcome.
Any little communion with him — one of his love-looks should be my begun heaven — it would soften hell’s pains to be filled with his love.
O would to the Lord I had not a myself but Christ: not a my lust, but Christ: not a my ease, but Christ: not a my honour, but Christ! O sweet word “Yet not I but Christ liveth in me!”
O if the heaven and the heaven of heavens were paper, and the sea ink and the multitude of mountains pens of brass, and I were able to write that paper, within and without, full of the praises of my fairest, my dearest, my loveliest, my sweetest, my matchless well-beloved!
Suppose our Lord were to make ten thousand heavens of good and glorious things, and of new joys, devised out of the deep of infinite wisdom, he could not make the like of Christ; for Christ is God and God cannot be made. O that he and we were together. There are many heads lying in Christ’s bosom, but there is room for your’s among the rest.
This soul of ours hath love, and cannot but love some fair one: and oh, what a fair One, what an only One, what an excellent lovely One, is Jesus! O but Christ is heaven’s wonder, and earth’s wonder! What marvel that his bride saith, “He is altogether lovely!”
Grace, grace, free grace, the merits of Christ for nothing, white and fair, and large Saviour-mercy, which is another sort of thing than creature-mercy or law-mercy, yea a thousand degrees above angel-mercy, hath been and must be the rock that we drowned souls must swim to.
Lovely Jesus, must be our song on this side of heaven’s gates. And even when we have won the castle, then must we eternally sing, “Worthy is the Lamb who hath saved us, and washed us in his own blood!”
I would counsel all the ransomed ones to learn this song, and to drink and be drunk with the love of Jesus. I think it is possible on earth to build a young new Jerusalem, a little new heaven, of this surpassing love.
Christ, is my choice in heaven and earth. I rejoice that he is in heaven before me: God send a joyful meeting; and, in the mean time, the traveller’s charges for the way — I mean, a burden of Christ’s love to sweeten the journey, and to encourage a breathless runner.
You cannot but see that the mark at which Christ hath aimed these 24 years and above, is to have the company and fellowship of such a sinful creature in heaven with him, for all eternity.
The Arm that hath knocked 5,000 years aches not yet: behold, He stands and knocks, and will not give over till all be his, and till the tribes in ones and twos be over Jordan, and up with him in the good land.
Better a thousand times live under the government and tutory of Christ, than be your own and live at will. Live in Christ, and you are in the suburbs of heaven; there is but a thin wall between you and the land of praises — ye are within an hour’s sailing of the shore of the new Canaan.
“Because he liveth ye shall live also.” And what is that else but as if the Son had said, “I will not have heaven except my redeemed ones be with me; they and I cannot live asunder.”