Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing Thy grace
Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise
Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above
Praise the mount, I'm fixed upon it, mount of Thy redeeming love.
I was listening to this yesterday, and the line struck me, "Tune my heart to sing Thy grace." We tune instruments to play songs correctly and beautifully. An out of tune instrument makes a song ugly.
My heart was once in tune with my Father's. Sin threw us all out of whack, though. I've tried all my life to tune to Yours my heart by ear, doing all the things I was told were "right" and "good." But I was still out of tune. My song was still lacking. I could not play the beautiful, redemptive song You wrote for me.
Your song is full of love. The most intense, real love anyone has ever heard. Then, the love turns to pain. The love and pain alternate as man refuses to praise Your greatness and instead bask in their sins. The final crescendo of pain comes as You send Your son to die, loud and beating, and then-hope wins. Love wins. The Lord wins.
Meanwhile, my own heart still longs for the sin that causes pain, but also for Your love. My pitiful attempts at tuning leave me a poor instrument to play Your song. Until You come, full of glory and hope and love. You are the perfect tuner. You fix my heart, You tune my strings. You teach me to play Your redemptive song of grace. You take my brokenness and hide it inside Your perfect song. You make me new. You tune the strings of my heart to sing Your notes of grace.
Oh, Lord. Tune my heart to sing Your grace.