How many thoughts can we think up in meditation about God’s lavishing of grace and mercy upon our souls as He brought us from spiritual death to spiritual life? I wonder how many letters and words would be enough to exhaust the thoughts of our hearts in humble reflection of the mercies of God given us?

I am reminded of an old hymn that gives the answer to these questions so plainly, yet so profoundly:

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

Yet the wonder of it is that such love of God, the full of it’s heights, depths and extents would be poured out to such as we are, vile, wretched, sons of disobedience. That He saw it fitting to accept us in the Beloved (Eph 1:6). To grant us peace with God (Rom 5:1). And from His fullness we have received, grace upon grace, aye, grace never ending (John 1:16).

What wonder. I fall flat on my face and worship.

Listen close as Spurgeon recounts the depths of the love of God for sinners in this excerpt from his recollection of his conversion.

My Master, I cannot understand how You could stoop Your wondrous head to such a death as the death of the cross.

I cannot understand how You could take from Your brow the crown of stars that from eternity past had shone resplendent there, but it astonishes me far more how You could permit the thorn-crown to encircle Your temples.

That You would cast away the mantle of Your glory, the azure of Your everlasting empire, I cannot comprehend.

But it is even harder to comprehend how You could have become veiled in the ignominious purple for a while to be mocked by impious men, who bowed to You as a pretended king.

It is incomprehensible how You could be stripped naked to Your shame, without a single covering, and die a felon’s death.

But the marvel is that You suffered all this for me!

Truly, Your love to me is wonderful, “passing the love of women” (2 Sam. 1:26)!

Was there ever grief like Yours?

Was there ever love like Yours, that could open the floodgates of such grief? Was there ever love so mighty as to become the fount from which such an ocean of grief could come rolling down?

There was never anything so true to me as those bleeding hands and that thorn-crowned head. Home, friends, health, wealth, comforts—all lost their luster that day when He appeared, just as stars are hidden by the light of the sun. He was the only Lord and Giver of life’s best bliss, the one well of living water “springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14).

As I saw Jesus on His cross before me, and as I mused upon His sufferings and death, I thought I saw Him cast a look of love on me. Then I looked at Him and cried,

Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly.

He said, “Come,” and I flew to Him and clasped Him. When He let me go again, I wondered where my burden was. It was gone! There in the sepulcher it lay, and I felt light as air. Like a winged sylph, I could fly over mountains of trouble and despair. Oh, what liberty and joy I had! I could leap with ecstasy, for I had been forgiven much, and I was freed from sin.

With the spouse in the Song of Solomon, I could say, “I found him”(Song 3:4).

I, a lad, found the Lord of glory. I, a slave to sin, found the Great Deliverer. I, the child of darkness, found the Light of Life. I, the uttermost of the lost, found my Savior and my God. I, widowed and desolate, found my Friend, my Beloved, my Husband.

[JM: Oh, but it was only because Christ first found us that we would ever realize to seek Him, much less find Him! It is only because He first loved us that we would ever be able to love Him! Oh, divine operation of the love of God! (John 6:35-40)]

Oh, how amazed I was that I was pardoned!

It was not the pardon that I was so amazed at; the wonder was that it should come to me.

I marveled that He was able to pardon such sins as mine, such crimes, so numerous and so dark. I marveled that, after such an accusing conscience, He had power to still every wave within my spirit and make my soul like the surface of a river—undisturbed, quiet, and at ease.

It did not matter to me whether the day itself was gloomy or bright, for I had found Christ; that was enough for me.

He was my Savior.

He was my all.

I can heartily say that one day of pardoned sin was a sufficient recompense for the whole five years of conviction.

I have to thank God for every terror that ever scared me by night and for every foreboding that alarmed me by day. It has made me happier ever since; for now, if there is a trouble weighing on my soul, I thank God it is not like the burden of sin and conviction [as what arrives for a lost man]. That was a burden so heavy with distress and affliction that it bowed me to the very earth and made me crawl like a beast.

I know I can never again suffer what I have suffered. I can never, unless I were sent to hell, know more agony than I have known. Now, that ease, that joy and peace in believing, that freedom from condemnation that belongs to me as a child of God, is made doubly sweet and inexpressibly precious by remembering my past days of sorrow and grief.

Blessed be God forever, who by those dark days, like a dreary winter, has made these summer days all the fairer and sweeter! I need not walk through the earth fearful of every shadow and afraid of every man I meet, for sin is washed away.

My spirit is no longer guilty; it is pure and holy.

The frown of God no longer rests on me, but my Father smiles.

I see His eyes; they are glancing love.

I hear His voice; it is full of sweetness.

I am forgiven, I am forgiven, I am forgiven!

When I look back on it, I can see one reason why the Word was blessed to me as I heard it preached in that Primitive Methodist chapel at Colchester. I had been up early crying to God for the blessing.

[JM: But let us remember that the only real reason any of us receives understanding in reading and hearing the Word of God is singularly because of the Spirit of God Himself. As the Word testifies: "Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God". (1 Cor 2:12)]

As a boy, when I was seeking the Savior, I used to rise with the sun that I might have time to read gracious books and seek the Lord. I can recall the kind of pleas I used when I took my arguments and came before the throne of grace:

“Lord, save me; [may] it will glorify Your grace to save such a sinner as I am! Lord, save me, or else I am lost to all eternity. Do not let me perish, Lord! Save me, O Lord, for Jesus died! By His agony and bloody sweat, by His cross and passion, save me!”

I often proved that the early morning was the best part of the day. I liked those prayers of which the psalmist said, “In the morning my prayer comes before thee” (Ps 88:13).

—C. H. Spurgeon, My Conversion

This is Part 8 of a series of posts on Spurgeon’s recollection of his conversion. Read the other parts here: My Conversion