Didactic Sonnet (Ephesians 6:4)

Let every father train his children well,
In love and patience – humble for your part,
All for their good – you dying to yourself,
For anger breeds up anger in their hearts.
Yet loving them requires discipline,
To guide their wayward souls to God’s decrees.
Confronting; demonstrating pain of sin,
Correct with words or rod as is their need.
And after discipline be quick to love.
Affection is the most effective means,
To show atonement from the Lord above;
So discipline will make their conscience clean.
Your discipline will shape their view of God,
His saving grace must be shown by your rod.

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Pain (Luke 23:44-49)

What has the Father done,
In punishing His son?
What wrath has He imposed,
To treat Him as His foe?
To such a torture sent,
His body bruised and bent,
In naked shame displayed,
To suffocate in pain,
While dogs and vultures swarm,
To desecrate His form.
Is this the price of sin?
The Son of God condemned.
You secret-keepers see,
The cost then to redeem.
Behold your Savior’s pain,
Why shrink, then, from His name?
Will you not yet confess,
This King of Righteousness,
Before the courts of man?
Or else would you be damned?
What mercy God has shown,
Redeeming us – His foes.
The risen Christ revealed,
His horrid wounds now sealed.
We’re summoned to His throne,
He calls us all His own!

Meditation (Psalm 32:1-6)

(To the tune of “Ar Èireann Nì Neosainn Cè hì”)

Oh how blessed is the man God redeems,
He whose sins have been taken away.
Oh how bless is the man God calls clean,
Who is righteous in all of his ways.
But the weight of my sins as a chain,
In a moment would strangle my soul.
Yet You poured on Yourself all my pain,
And my punishment You paid in full.

I endeavored to fight sin alone,
God, Your hand it was heavy on me.
How my soul burned! My vigor had flown.
How my bones groaned in my misery!
I acknowledge my faults where I stand,
All my sins I confess openly,
On myself I have pointed my hand,
But You take all my sins off of me.

Let me teach all the nations Your praise,
And a song of deliverance sing.
Let me show all the peoples their place,
As we bow at the feet of our King.
So whenever the harvest abounds,
Or when we are a byword and loathed,
At all times, Lord, You may still be found,
In Your righteousness ever we’re clothed.