Where Grace Abounds

Reflections on God's grace in our lives, through Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour.

By Rev. Rodney Swansborough

"But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound" (KJV)

Romans 5:20

Where Grace Abounds

Seize this heart, O Spirit, soft yet strong,
And tear this rot from bone and blood and death;
Though I am bound by sin, and wretched, wrong,
Still draw me gently through thy sacred breath.

Your nature is entirely pure,
Yet dares my flesh, my trespass, call Thee near?
O come, Holy Spirit, living, warm, and sure,
And wash my sin-sick soul with holy fear.

Break my hard heart, yet bind it up with love;
Burn out the stain, yet warm me with Thy flame;
Raise me from dust, and lift me from above,
And write Thy law within my heart by name.

For I Thy temple, possessed by Thee,
Unless grace abounds, never fully free!

Rodney Swansborough
June 2026

Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend

Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I, like an usurp'd town to another due,

Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end;

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,

But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.

Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov'd fain,

But am betroth'd unto your enemy;

Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

O might those sighes and teares returne againe

Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent,

That I might in this holy discontent

Mourne with some fruit, as I have mourn’d in vaine;

In mine Idolatry what showres of raine

Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did rent?

That sufferance was my sinne; now I repent;

’Cause I did suffer I must suffer paine.

Th’hydroptique drunkard, and night-scouting thiefe,

The itchy Lecher, and selfe tickling proud

Have the remembrance of past joyes, for reliefe

Of comming ills. To (poore) me is allow’d

No ease; for, long, yet vehement griefe hath beene

Th’effect and cause, the punishment and sinne.

THOU hast made me, And shall thy worke decay?

Repaire me now, for now mine end doth haste,

I runne to death, and death meets me as fast,

And all my pleasures are like yesterday;

I dare not move my dimme eyes any way,

Despaire behind, and death before doth cast

Such terrour, and my feeble flesh doth waste

By sinne in it, which it t’wards hell doth weigh;

Onely thou art above, and when towards thee

By thy leave I can looke, I rise againe;

But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,

That not one houre my selfe I can sustaine;

Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his art,

And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart.

Oh my blacke Soule! now thou art summoned

By sicknesse, deaths herald, and champion;

Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done

Treason, and durst not turne to whence hee is fled,

Or like a thiefe, which till deaths doome be read,

Wisheth himselfe delivered from prison;

But damn’d and hal’d to execution,

Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.

Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lacke;

But who shall give thee that grace to beginne?

Oh make thy selfe with holy mourning blacke,

And red with blushing, as thou art with sinne;

Or wash thee in Christs blood, which hath this might

That being red, it dyes red soules to white.

I AM a little world made cunningly

Of Elements, and an Angelike spright,

But black sinne hath betraid to endlesse night

My worlds both parts, and (oh) both parts must die.

You which beyond that heaven which was most high

Have found new sphears, and of new lands can write,

Powre new seas in mine eyes, that so I might

Drowne my world with my weeping earnestly,

Or wash it if it must be drown’d no more:

But oh it must be burnt! alas the fire

Of lust and envie have burnt it heretofore,

And made it fouler; Let their flames retire,

And burne me o Lord, with a fiery zeale

Of thee and thy house, which doth in eating heale