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PUT YOUR HAND IN MINE

 

 

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 evangelist.

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 front door.

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 Jesus.

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.

Texas Bob

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