Time in the Goldmine

With anticipation in his heart,
The saint opens the book.
Its binding breaking at the seams,
It seems not worth the look.
Its leather curling, cracked, and dried,
Its pages old and worn,
Belie the treasures hid within -
God's truths its leaves adorn.

Opening at a book, with prayer
Uttered over every word,
the saint begins to dig into
the goldmine of the Lord,
And phrase by phrase through the Spirit's power
the precious vein revealed,
Of Jesus Christ, the sinner's friend,
And God's grace, once concealed.

The faithful saint then follows
This vein through other pages;
The Saviour's blessèd character
Slowly revealed in stages.
And Christ is seen as He passes
From glory unto glory
And the saint with joyful tear in eye
Praises redemption's story

For reflected in the gold he sees
His own sinful condition
Now covered over, washed away -
Christ's shed blood brings remission.
God's Son displayed on every page -
Creator, Redeemer, and Friend -
In this vault of gold stretching eternal
In which saints their time should spend.