PUT YOUR HAND IN
The beauty of
assurance and acceptance by God is illustrated by the true story of
a little boy, years ago, who lived in London, England. He heard that
Dr. D. L. Moody was coming to preach, and on the day of the meeting,
the little boy walked across the city to hear the famous American
When he drew
near to the church, he saw that it was situated on a hill. The sun
was setting, and the colors of the sunset were reflected in the
multifaceted stained-glass windows, making them look as though they
were glowing. The sound of hundreds of voices undergirded by a
powerful pipe organ drifted toward him. He forgot how tired he was,
and he ran all the way up the long granite staircase that led to the
As he reached
the threshold and was ready to open the door to enter, a big hand
grasped him firmly by the shoulder and spun him around. "What do you
think you're doing, laddie?" demanded a tall, severe-looking deacon.
The little boy
told him he had traveled all the way across the city in order to
hear Dr. Moody, and he wanted to go inside. The keeper of the door
looked the little boy up and down from head to toe, taking in the
uncombed hair, the unwashed face, the unshod feet, and the unclean
clothes. He then retorted, "Not you, sonny. You're too dirty to go
inside. Be gone."
The little boy
just stuck his nose up in the air and determined to find another way
inside the church. But the other doors were locked, and the windows
were too high to climb through. Dejected, he went back to the front
steps, plopped down, and began to cry.
Just then he was
distracted by a carriage that pulled up to the foot of the steps.
Out bounded a distinguished-looking gentleman who marched quickly up
the steps. He stopped when he came to the little, boy, noticing his
grimy, tear-streaked face. "What's the matter, boy?" he inquired.
The little boy explained, and the gentleman looked at him kindly
then extended his hand. "Here. Put your hand in mine." The
boy thought about it for a minute, then he slipped his little hand
into the big man's grasp. Hand in hand they walked up the steps of
the church. When they came to the door that had previously been shut
to the little boy, it was flung wide open. Hand in hand the big man
and the little street urchin walked down the center aisle. When they
came to the front row, the gentleman deposited the boy on the pew
then walked up to the platform, into the pulpit and began to preach.
The man was Dr. D. L. Moody!
The only way the
little boy got inside that church was because he was holding Dr.
Moody's hand. In the same way, the only reason anyone----you or I or
Billy Graham or Pope John Paul or Mother Teresa or a murderer on
death row or an alcoholic in the gutter------the only reason anyone
gets into Heaven is because that person is holding the hand of
THE AUTHOR OF THIS PIECE IS UNKNOWN TO ME
However, my friend Jesus is very well known to
me. He holds my hand and leads me daily. Holding on to his precious
hand makes life so much more enjoyable, and is my only assurance, I
will be with him forever.
If you haven't yet reached to grasp his nail
scarred hand, I urge you to do so now, today! Before it is too late,
once he returns for us, it will be too late. He is waiting for you
at this moment, with outstretched hands.