None of My Sin is Hidden From You

Years ago, I was asked the question “If you were on a deserted island and only had 2 books, what would they be?” Now in some regard that was an incredibly difficult question because I consider myself an avid reader. I like anything from the classics to modern fiction. I am a book worm when it comes to my personal devotions and sermon preparation as well. I have benefited from reading after men from the past like C.H. Spurgeon and B.B. Warfield to modern writers such as Paul Tripp and John Piper.

But to answer the question, according to the two most important things in my life, I would have to say the Bible and most recently printed, Piercing Heaven. The Bible because it is God’s communication to us and Piercing Heaven because it is our communication to God. Piercing Heaven is a compilation of prayers written in modern language by the Puritans.

Tim Challies recently posted a prayer from Piercing Heaven by Philip Doddridge that is one of a convicted sinner. No truer words have ever been prayed of our depraved lives and His glorious grace.

“Injured King and almighty Judge, what can I say to the charges against me? Should I pretend to be offended, and defend myself? I do not dare. You know my foolishness. None of my sins is hidden from you.

My conscience tells me that denying my crimes would only increase them, and add new fuel to the fire of wrath I deserve.

I am more guilty than I can say. My heart speaks more than any accuser. And you, Lord, are much greater than my heart. You know it all.

What has my life been but rebellion against you? It is not this or that particular sin alone. From start to finish, nothing has been right. My whole soul has been disordered.

All my thoughts and affections, my desires, my pursuits—everything has been alienated from you.

I have acted as if I hated you—you who are infinitely the loveliest of all beings. As if I had been trying to wear out your wonderful patience.

My actions have been evil, my words yet more so. And my heart, how much more corrupt than either!

What a fountain of sin and original corruption is my heart. It mingled its bitter streams with the days of early childhood and flows on even to this day. And I have been growing worse and worse, provoking your patience more and more.

I am astonished that your patience continues. If the offense were against me, I could not have endured it as you have. Had I been a prince, I would long since have done justice on any rebel whose crimes even faintly resembled mine. Had I been a parent, I would have long since cast off such an ungrateful child.

Why then, Lord, am I not cast out from your presence? Why am I not sealed up under an irreversible sentence of destruction! I owe my life to your indulgence.

But if there is yet any way of deliverance, any hope for so guilty a creature, may it be opened to me by your gospel and grace.

If any more humiliation or terror is needed for my salvation, may I bear it all! Wound my heart, Lord, so you can afterward heal it. Break it in pieces, if you will bind it up in the end. Amen.”



The Gospel PostScript