theophilus on Nostr: As bitcoiners, we love freedom and self-sovereignty. Saving in bitcoin will give you ...
As bitcoiners, we love freedom and self-sovereignty.
Saving in bitcoin will give you greater financial freedom, but without Christ, it’s hollow.
Christian freedom is paradoxical. One must give it up to find it. George Matheson’s hymn, Make Me a Captive, Lord (1890), captures it well:
Make me a captive, Lord,
And then I shall be free;
Force me to render up my sword,
And I shall conqu'ror be.
I sink in life's alarms
When by myself I stand;
Imprison me within Thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.
My heart is weak and poor
Until it master find;
It has no spring of action sure,
It varies with the wind.
It cannot freely move
Till Thou hast wrought its chain;
Enslave it with Thy matchless love,
And deathless it shall reign.
My will is not my own
Till Thou hast made it Thine;
If it would reach a monarch's throne,
It must its crown resign.
It only stands unbent
Amid the clashing strife,
When on Thy bosom it has leant,
And found in Thee its life.
Published at
2025-02-17 14:42:14Event JSON
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"content": "As bitcoiners, we love freedom and self-sovereignty. \n\nSaving in bitcoin will give you greater financial freedom, but without Christ, it’s hollow. \n\nChristian freedom is paradoxical. One must give it up to find it. George Matheson’s hymn, Make Me a Captive, Lord (1890), captures it well:\n\nMake me a captive, Lord, \nAnd then I shall be free; \nForce me to render up my sword, \nAnd I shall conqu'ror be. \nI sink in life's alarms \nWhen by myself I stand; \nImprison me within Thine arms, \nAnd strong shall be my hand.\n\nMy heart is weak and poor \nUntil it master find; \nIt has no spring of action sure, \nIt varies with the wind. \nIt cannot freely move \nTill Thou hast wrought its chain; \nEnslave it with Thy matchless love, \nAnd deathless it shall reign.\n\nMy will is not my own \nTill Thou hast made it Thine; \nIf it would reach a monarch's throne, \nIt must its crown resign. \nIt only stands unbent \nAmid the clashing strife, \nWhen on Thy bosom it has leant, \nAnd found in Thee its life.",
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