The Broken Heart

It was quite a number of years ago that John MacArthur, one of America's preeminent pastor/teachers, offered the free gift of the book Valley Of Vision on his radio broadcast. This book is a compilation of Puritan prayers edited by Arthur Bennett and published by the Banner Of Truth Trust. These Puritan writers lived from the 17th to the 19th centuries. I passed on MacArthur's offer, had second thoughts, and ordered a copy later. It has been a staple in our household since then. I've had a few remarkable experiences with the book but I'll relate just one. I gave a copy to a young seminarian who I had just met and who was passing through our town on his way to Michigan.  Months later I listened to the recorded message on our telephone where he had called simply to say that reading those prayers was the beginning in the change of his theology. I have also been surprised at how many times someone would tell me in conversation that they already had possession of this book. Imagine that...a book of Puritan prayers! Aren't they supposed to be the purveyors of legalism and dreariness? I presume that John MacArthur's intent in giving away this book was more in comparing us with how Christians of the past had prayed than in simply giving a book of prayers to use, although it has been a staple at our dinner table as a daily reminder of my weakness and His strength. I probably have copied at least a dozen or more of these prayers in blogs of the past two and a half years.  Here is my latest offering from that book, Valley Of Vision, edited by Arthur Bennett (isbn 9780851512280) and available through any bookstore or Internet book dealer. The title given this particular prayer by the editor is The Broken Heart which may be America's greatest need at his time, to approach God in humility seeking His mercy upon us.

O Lord
No day of my life has passed that has not
proved me guilty in thy sight.
Prayers have been uttered from a
prayerless heart;
Praise has been often praiseless sound;
My best services are filthy rags.
Blessed Jesus, let me find a covert in thy appeasing
wounds.
Though my sins rise to heaven thy merits soar
above them;
Though unrighteousness weighs me down to hell,
Thy righteousness exalts me to thy throne.
All things in me call for my rejection,
All things in thee plead my acceptance.
I appeal from the throne of perfect justice
to thy throne of boundless grace.
Grant me to hear thy voice assuring me:
that by thy stripes I am healed,
that thou wast bruised for my iniquities,
that thou hast been made sin for me
that I might be righteous in thee,
that my grievous sins, my manifold sins,
are all forgiven,
buried in the ocean of thy concealing blood.
I am guilty, but pardoned,
lost, but saved,
wandering, but found,
sinning, but cleansed.
Give me perpetual broken-heartedness,
Keep me always clinging to thy cross,
Flood me every moment with descending grace,
Open to me the springs of divine knowledge,
sparkling like crystal,
flowing clear and unsullied
through my wilderness of life.