I. When I remember my sin and confess it, God remembers His covenant and returns to me.
Yes, even to me. I say, in my despair, that there are peculiarities in my case which make it exceptional, terrible aggravations in my guilt and evil. Let it be so. Let it be that I am the chief of sinners. My sin does not outrun His mercy, and is not so large as His grace. Its blackness, its heinousness, its thanklessness will but heighten His glory in forgiving and restoring me.
II. From my depth, let me look up to the saints who have finished their course and entered into the joy of their Lord. Once, in God’s holy eyes, they were no better than I am. From the horrible pit He took them, and from the miry clay. He will do as much for me. His arm is not shortened. He will set me with the princes of his people.
‘Israel was a people whom He had chosen and formed for Himself. But they came into a line of strangers, who oppressed and enslaved them, that their hearts might be prepared to long for and welcome His deliverance. Then, in a series of mighty wonders, and through the blood of the paschal lamb, they were brought from under the hand of their oppressors, led through the Red Sea, and taught under the cliffs of Sinai—this thought being continually impressed on them, that they were the Lord’s people, whom He had purchased for Himself, that they might be holy, even as He is. God had a right to claim His people for holiness, because they were His purchased possession.’