Just as I am

Just as I am – without one plea, But that Thy blood was shed for me, And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,  -O Lamb of God, I come! Just as I am – and waiting not Just as I am – though toss’d about Just as I am – poor, wretched, blind; Just as I am – Thou wilt receive, Just as I am – Thy love unknown Just as I am – of that free love

-O Lamb of God, I come!

A recent trip to the Billy Graham Library in Charlotte, NC brought the power and richness of this hymn back to the forefront of my mind. It stirs and moves me in a special way. I suppose that’s to be expected since this is the song that played during my first dance with my Savior after I embraced Jesus.

It is quite possible that the depth of my Savior’s love grows sweeter each day. That every day I still come… just as I am.

There is no limit to the supply of His mercy. No boundary to the depth of His love. No constraint the measure of His grace.

I come… just as I am.

My heart echoed the refrain of this hymn from the cavernous reaches of the Billy Sunday Tabernacle. My sin, though damnable, was unremarkable. It separated me from God, but it didn’t involve our penal system, or a rehab center. Still, I came, just as I was. No plea. No argument. No answer.

And then, last week, without a single refrain or stanza of the seminal lyric, kids came. In Florida and Oregon. From Alabama, and North Carolina, and Washington, and California.

• This included young ladies who are not dealing with boy problems; they’re dealing with prostitution.
• These are kids that aren’t attracted to partying, but dealing with addiction.
• They’re not simply talking about anger issues; they’re talking about assault.
• In this crowd tears aren’t wasted over a prom dress that doesn’t fit, but rather over multiple abortions.

And while we might lament what this means for our culture, it’s clear that the Bible has light to shed on every kind of darkness. Culture cannot outrun God’s grace.

Jesus came so that we could come… just as we are.

Without a plea. Without excuse. Without answers.

Whether in the aisleways of monstrous auditoriums or in the remote cabins of an Oregon camp… we come. They come.

Sinners. Redeemed. Forgiven. Set free.

To dance the first dance with their Savior… just as I am.