Idols abound in this life. Worthless Idols that do us no good*.
Carved out images of powerless beings. Detestable forms of unholy things. Mute, dumb, blind, senseless. Cold stone, lifeless eyes.
Oh yes. “I renounce these things!” says Mr. Christian. “Who do you think I am? Would I behave like the heathen of the east?”
Then he goes and sets up idols in his heart.*
Yes, on that pedestal of the heart, reserved for one he clutters now; to display those things he thinks will gain, eternal life:
His Graciousness “My-experience”
Lord “Precious-poverty”
and
King “Good-works”
see
on that pedestal of the heart
Idols abound in this life
but
It’s reserved for one
only
The Holy Son
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