| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians by Martin Luther: We are the offending party; God is the party offended. The offense is of
such a nature that God cannot pardon it. Neither can we render adequate
satisfaction for our offenses. There is discord between God and us. Could
not God revoke His Law? No. How about running away from God? It
cannot be done. It took Christ to come between us and God and to
reconcile God to us. How did Christ do it? "Blotting out the handwriting
of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out
of the way, nailing it to his cross." (Col. 2:14.)
This one word, "mediator," is proof enough that the Law cannot justify.
Otherwise we should not need a mediator.
In Christian theology the Law does not justify. In fact it has the contrary
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe: But it was enough to have terrified a bolder man than I; and,
indeed, it alarmed all our company, when, with the noise of
Friday's pistol, we heard on both sides the most dismal howling of
wolves; and the noise, redoubled by the echo of the mountains,
appeared to us as if there had been a prodigious number of them;
and perhaps there was not such a few as that we had no cause of
apprehension: however, as Friday had killed this wolf, the other
that had fastened upon the horse left him immediately, and fled,
without doing him any damage, having happily fastened upon his
head, where the bosses of the bridle had stuck in his teeth. But
the man was most hurt; for the raging creature had bit him twice,
Robinson Crusoe |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Helen of Troy And Other Poems by Sara Teasdale: That he has turned to sighs.
And since I am a maiden
My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
More red than roses blow.
"I Love You"
When April bends above me
And finds me fast asleep,
Dust need not keep the secret
A live heart died to keep.
When April tells the thrushes,
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