Behold the Lamb of God: The True Tall Tale of the Coming of Christ

What defense do I have but to flee? Not to flee from the enemy, but to the protection of the King? I flee to the one whose victory is sure, whose strength is perfect, whose promise is unbreakable, whose words are immutable and eternal. When I hide in the wings of my redeemer, the arrows of the enemy clatter to the ground, powerless. If my strength is not my own, if my righteousness is Christ’s, my darkness only makes his light more lovely. Satan might as well be accusing the shadows in a Rembrandt of ruining the masterpiece. God bends even our sin to the service of his glory. This, I’m convinced, confounds the principalities of evil.

I told Jamie after that dark drive home from the studio that I realised a few things about myself. First, I remembered for the thousandth time that I need the gospel. I need to preach it to myself daily. My sin-oh the bliss of this glorious thought-my sin not in part but the whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more. Praise the Lord, oh my soul. Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our LORD! This central truth of the gospel is also one of the hardest ones to remember-not just to remember, but to believe.

…No man, when he comes to die, will ever say “I spoke too much of the grace of God.” Let Satan accuse me of that. I welcome it.

-Andrew Peterson, Behold the Lamb of God, p. xvii

 

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