That dear old hymn--"The Old Rugged Cross" cannot be fully understood until it's heard on a violin. Miss Betsy told a story tonight with wood an strings, and it was the most beautiful story I had ever heard.
My mind does not understand how such beauty and hideous reality merges together into one. There was nothing ugly in what I heard, but with every note, I thought the wood wept, and my heart cried with it.
Sufficient is the cleansing fountain.
Completed is Calvary's work.
Forgiven are all my transgressions.
Defeated is death's sting.
Vanquished is the grave's victory.
And I am victorious.