Nothing In My Hand I Bring

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Journal Entry. 20th July, 2026. 1:42 AM

The heart of man ever leans upon seeking its worth in that which it can accomplish. Some labor to distinguish themselves by success in their calling, others by the esteem of men, and not a few by an outward diligence in the duties of religion. Even the preaching of the Gospel, if divorced from love towards Christ, may become but another work whereby the conscience seeketh to justify itself before men or to quiet its own uneasy accusations.

Yet such pursuits take us very far from true rest. Performance is a master that is never satisfied. The more it demandeth, the more it requireth; and the soul that serveth it soon findeth itself wearied by its labors and embittered by its continual disappointments. No measure of human achievement can bestow that peace which God alone is able to give.

But when the soul is brought to behold the love of God in Christ—a love that had its beginning in His eternal purpose and shall know no end—it ceaseth from its restless striving after the world's approval. Having been accepted in the Beloved, it no longer seeketh honor, reputation, worldly comforts, or even religious attainments to establish its worth. The heart that is filled with Christ hath no occasion to beg from the creature what it hath already received from the Creator. Resting in His unchangeable favor, it is at liberty to serve without seeking recognition from people, to sacrifice without expecting reward from people, and to love without fear of being unknown by people; its fullness is found, not in what it does for God, but in what God hath graciously done for it in His Son.

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