"Salvation is of the LORD." -Jonah 2:9

"The poor have the gospel  preached to them." -Matthew 11:5 [KJV] What is the gospel? Is not the gospel a proclamation of pure mercy, of superabounding grace? Does it not declare the lovingkindness of God in sending His only-begotten Son to bleed and die, and, by His obedience, blood, and merit, to bring in a salvation without money and without price? Is not this the gospel? Not clogged by conditions, nor crippled by anything that the creature has to perform; but flowing freely forth as the air in the skies? The poor to whom the gospel is preached, value it; it is suitable to them; it is sweet and precious when the heart is brought down. But if I stand up in religious pride, if I rest upon my own righteousness, if I am not stripped of everything in the creature, what is the gospel to me? I have no heart to receive it; there is no place in my soul for a gospel without money and without price. But when I sink into the depth of creature poverty, when I am nothi

When the Holy Spirit shows us the necessity, the beauty and the sufficiency of the death of Christ, we repent of our own foolish works of self-righteousness, we forsake every other way of seeking to please God, we look to Christ and His substitutionary death as the only ground of our acceptance with God and our conscience rests in the quiet assurance that Christ has satisfied God on our behalf and saved us in a way that glorifies God in all His holy character. Thus the “blood” purges our consciences of every false hope, of natural self-righteousness, and all fear and doubt! -Gospel report by preacher Gary Shepard

It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest. Dear Name! the Rock on which I build My Shield and Hiding-place; My never-failing Treasury fill'd With boundless stores of grace. By Thee my prayers acceptance gain, Although with sin defiled; Satan accuses me in vain, And I am own'd a child. Jesus! my Shepherd, Husband, Friend, My Prophet, Priest, and King; My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, Accept the praise I bring. Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought. Till then I would Thy love proclaim With every fleeting breath; And may the music of Thy Name Refresh my soul in death! -John Newton .