Pray for Me!
One Sunday in a Midwest city a young child was "acting up" during the morning worship hour. The parents did their best to maintain some sense of order in the pew but were losing the battle. Finally the father picked the little fellow up and walked sternly down the aisle on his way out. Just before reaching the safety of the foyer the little one called loudly to the congregation, "Pray for me! Pray for me!"
The Cobbler
When I was a boy, I felt it was both a duty and a privilege to help my widowed mother make ends meet by finding employment in vacation time, on Saturdays and other times when I did not have to be in school. For quite a while I worked for a Scottish shoemaker, or "cobbler," as he preferred to be called, an Orkney man, named Dan Mackay. He was a forthright Christian and his little shop was a real testimony for Christ in the neighborhood. The walls were literally covered with Bible texts and pictures, generally taken from old-fashioned Scripture Sheet Almanacs, so that look where one would, he found the Word of God staring him in the face. There were John 3:16 and John 5:24, Romans 10:9, and many more.
On the little counter in front of the bench on which the owner of the shop sat, was a Bible, generally open, and a pile of gospel tracts. No package went out of that shop without a printed message wrapped inside. And whenever opportunity offered, the customers were spoken to kindly and tactfully about the importance of being born again and the blessedness of knowing that the soul is saved through faith in Christ. Many came back to ask for more literature or to inquire more particularly as to how they might find peace with God, with the blessed results that men and women were saved, frequently right in the shoe shop.
It was my chief responsibility to pound leather for shoe soles. A piece of cowhide would be cut to suit, then soaked in water. I had a flat piece of iron over my knees and, with a flat-headed hammer, I pounded these soles until they were hard and dry. It seemed an endless operation to me, and I wearied of it many times.
What made my task worse was the fact that, a block away, there was another shop that I passed going and coming to or from my home, and in it sat a jolly, godless cobbler who gathered the boys of the neighborhood about him and regaled them with lewd tales that made him dreaded by respectable parents as a menace to the community. Yet, somehow, he seemed to thrive and that perhaps to a greater extent than my employer, Mackay. As I looked in his window, I often noticed that he never pounded the soles at all, but took them from the water, nailed them on, damp as they were, and with the water splashing from them as he drove each nail in.
One day I ventured inside, something I had been warned never to do. Timidly, I said, "I notice you put the soles on while still wet. Are they just as good as if they were pounded?" He gave me a wicked leer as he answered, "They come back all the quicker this way, my boy!"
"Feeling I had learned something, I related the instance to my boss and suggested that I was perhaps wasting time in drying out the leather so carefully. Mr. Mackay stopped his work and opened his Bible to the passage that reads, "Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."
"Harry," he said, "I do not cobble shoes just for the four bits and six bits (50 cents or 75 cents) that I get from my customers. I am doing this for the glory of God. I expect to see every shoe I have ever repaired in a big pile at the judgment seat of Christ, and I do not want the Lord to say to me in that day, ‘Dan, this was a poor job. You did not do your best here.' I want Him to be able to say, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.'"
Then he went on to explain that just as some men are called to preach, so he was called to fix shoes, and that only as he did this well would his testimony count for God. It was a lesson I have never been able to forget. Often when I have been tempted to carelessness, and to slipshod effort, I have thought of dear, devoted Dan Mackay, and it has stirred me up to seek to do all as for Him who died to redeem me.
H.A. Ironside, Illustrations of Bible Truth, Moody Press, 1945, pp. 37-39.
Ask And You Shall Receive
A little boy was spending his Saturday morning playing in his sandbox. He had with him his box of cars and trucks, his plastic pail, and a shiny, red plastic shovel. In the process of creating roads and tunnels in the soft sand, he discovered a large rock in the middle of the sandbox.. The lad dug around the rock, managing to dislodge it from the dirt. With no little bit of struggle, he pushed and nudged the rock across the sandbox by using his feet. (He was a very small boy and the rock was very huge.) When the boy got the rock to the edge of the sandbox, however, he found that he couldn't roll it up and over the little wall..
Determined, the little boy shoved, pushed, and pried, but every time he thought he had made some progress, the rock tipped and then fell back into the sandbox.. The little boy grunted, struggled, pushed, shoved-but his only reward was to have the rock roll back, smashing his chubby fingers.. Finally he burst into tears of frustration... All this time the boy's father watched from his living room window as the drama unfolded.
At the moment the tears fell, a large shadow fell across the boy and the sandbox. It was the boy's father... Gently but firmly he said, "Son, why didn't you use all the strength that you had available?" Defeated, the boy sobbed back, "But I did, Daddy, I did! I used all the strength that I had! "No, son," corrected the father kindly. "You didn't use all the strength you had. You didn't ask me." With that the father reached down, picked up the rock, and removed it from the sandbox.
The Offering Box
A little girl was in church with her mother when she started feeling ill.
"Mommy," she said, "can we leave now?"
"No," her mother replied.
"Well, I think I have to throw up!"
"Then go out the front door and around to the back of the church and throw up behind a bush."
After about 60 seconds the little girl returned to her seat.
"Did you throw up?" Mom asked.
"Yes."
"How could you have gone all the way to the back of the church and returned so quickly?"
"I didn't have to go out of the church, Mommy. They have a box next to the front door that says, ‘For the Sick.'"
Hymns of the Lukewarm Church
1. A Comfy Mattress Is Our God
2. Joyful, Joyful, We Kinda Like Thee
3. Above Average is Thy Faithfulness
4. Lord, Keep Us Loosely Connected to Your Word
5. All Hail the Influence of Jesus' Name
6. My Hope is Built on Nothing Much
7. Amazing Grace, How Interesting the Sound
8. My Faith Looks Around for Thee
9. Be Thou My Hobby
10. O God, Our Enabler in Ages Past
11. Blest Be the Tie That Doesn't Cramp My Style
12. Oh, for a Couple of Tongues to Sing
13. He's Quite a Bit to Me
14. Oh, How I Like Jesus
15. I Lay My Inappropriate Behaviors on Jesus
16. Pillow of Ages, Fluffed for Me
17. I Surrender Some
18. Praise God from Whom All Affirmations Flow
19. I'm Fairly Certain That My Redeemer Lives
20. Self-Esteem to the World! The Lord is Come
21. Sit Up, Sit Up for Jesus
22. Special, Special, Special
23. Spirit of the Living God, Fall Somewhere Near Me
24. Stick Nearby, It's Getting Dark Outside
25. Take My Life and Let Me Be
26. There is Scattered Cloudiness in My Soul Today
27. There Shall be Sprinkles of Blessings
28. What an Acquaintance We Have in Jesus
29. When Peace, Like a Trickle. . .
30. When the Saints Go Sneaking In
31. Where He Leads Me, I Will Consider Following
32. God of Taste, and God of Stories
33. Lift Every Voice and Intellectualize
The Lord's Prayer
I had been teaching my three-year old daughter, Caitlin, the Lord's Prayer. For several evenings at bedtime, she would repeat after me the lines from the prayer. Finally, she decided to go solo. I listened with pride as she carefully enunciated each word, right up to the end of the prayer: "Lead us not into temptation," she prayed, "but deliver us some e-mail. Amen."
Valentines
Little Chad was a shy, quiet young fella. One day he came home and told his mother he'd like to make a valentine for everyone in his class. Her heart sank. She thought, I wish he wouldn't do that! because she had watched the children when they walked home from school. Her Chad was always behind them. They laughed and hung on to each other and talked to each other. But Chad was never included. Nevertheless, she decided she would go along with her son. So she purchased the paper and glue and crayons. For three whole weeks, night after night, Chad painstakingly made thirty-five valentines.
Valentine's Day dawned, and Chad was beside himself with excitement! He carefully stacked them up, put them in a bag, and bolted out the door. His mom decided to bake him his favorite cookies and serve them up warm and nice with a coot glass of milk when he came home from school. She just knew he ‘would be disappointed ... maybe that would ease the pain a little. It hurt her to think that he wouldn't get many valentines-maybe none at all.
That afternoon she had the cookies and milk on the table. When she heard the children outside she looked out the window. Sure enough here they came, laughing and having the best time. And, as always, there was Chad in the rear. He walked a little faster than usual. She fully expected him to burst into tears as soon as he got inside. His arms were empty, she noticed, and when the door opened she choked back the tears.
"Mommy has some warm cookies and milk for you."
But he hardly heard her words. He just marched right on by, his face aglow, and all he could say was:
"Not a one ... not a one."
And then he added, "I didn't forget a one, not a single one!"
Dale Galloway
Stories for the Heart compiled by Alice Gray (Portland: Multnomah Press, 1996), p. 65.
Driver's Permit
A young boy had just gotten his driving permit. He asked his father, who was a minister, if they could discuss the use of the car. His father took him to his study and said to him, "I'll make a deal with you. You bring your grades up, study your Bible a little and get your hair cut and we'll talk about it."
After about a month the boy came back and again asked his father if they could discuss use of the car. They again went to the father's study where his father said, "Son, I've been real proud of you. You have brought your grades up, you've studied your Bible diligently, but you didn't get your hair cut!" The young man waited a moment and replied, "You know Dad, I've been thinking about that. You know, Samson had long hair, Moses had long hair, Noah had long hair, and even Jesus had long hair...." To which his father replied, "Yes, and they walked every where they went!"
Beyond the Blood: The Real Meaning of The Passion of the Christ
Related MediaMel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ has generated widespread reaction from both secular and Christian critics. For the most part the reviews have been positive-appropriately so. Secular reviewers, while not always appreciative of Gibson's pro-Catholic, pro-Christian perspective, at least appreciate the cinematographic power of the film. Christian reviewers, especially evangelical Christians, praise the film for its accurate portrayal of the suffering Jesus Christ endured. The response of the general public has been overwhelmingly positive. Already, both attendance and revenue records are being set. Mel Gibson is to be commended for producing a significant, impactive motion picture that compels an emotional response from the viewers.
Without question, the most talked about feature of the film is its graphic nature. The movie is two hours of relentless, wanton brutality with almost nonstop bloodshed, anguish and torture. Only the most unfeeling individual could watch this film and not have an emotional response. The blood of Christ is particularly prominent throughout the film. From the pool of blood that covered the ground following His flogging...to the droplet of blood that dripped down over his eyes after He was crowned with thorns...to the flow of blood that spewed from His side on the cross...His blood is everywhere.
What is the significance of Christ's blood? The movie does not answer this question clearly. But the Bible-Gibson's inspiration for the film-does. God's Word indicates that there can be no forgiveness of sins without the shedding of blood (Heb. 9:22). Jesus' death was more than just the senseless and cruel murder of an innocent man at the hands of a misguided Jewish mob. Jesus' death was God's means of providing redemption for all of mankind! By His death, Jesus paid the penalty for the sins of mankind once and for all. By His resurrection, He defeated death and earned the right to provide eternal salvation to all who will freely receive it.
What distinguishes Christianity from every other religion known to man is that Christianity is the only religion that adequately solves mankind's sin problem. The reality of evil in the heart of man scarcely needs to be asserted. Even a casual glance at the daily news makes this self-evident. Every human being is born with an evil nature that results in a proclivity for sin. The problem is mankind can never enter heaven in such a sinful condition. Furthermore, no amount of self-effort can attain the kind of perfect righteousness that heaven demands. So in the greatest demonstration of true love, God sent His Son, born of a virgin, to die as a substitute for fallen mankind at Calvary.
Today, all who trust Jesus Christ to give them the gift of forgiveness and eternal life are declared-at the moment they place their faith in Him-totally and completely righteous. Personal salvation is by faith alone in Christ alone...nothing more...nothing less. Thus, the message of Gibson's movie, while graphic in nature, is really a message of hope. Because Jesus suffered and bled and died on our behalf, we can have our sins forgiven and receive the free gift of eternal life. Have you placed your faith in Jesus Christ for your personal salvation?
Related Topics: Crucifixion
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