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A.W. Tozer
We may plead for mercy for a lifetime in unbelief, and at the end of our days be still no more than sadly hopeful that we shall somewhere, sometime, receive it. This is to starve to death just outside the banquet hall in which we have been warmly invited. Or we may, if we will, lay hold on the mercy of God by faith, enter the hall, and sit down with the bold and avid souls who will not allow diffidence and unbelief to keep them from the feast of fat things prepared for them. Arise, my soul, arise; Shake off thy guilty fears; The bleeding Sacrifice In my behalf appears: Before the throne my Surety stands, My name is written on His hands. My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear: He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear: With confidence I now draw nigh, And Father, Abba, Father, cry.
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