The true Christian is one whose religion is in his heart and life. It is felt by himself in his heart. It is seen by others in his conduct and life. He feels his sinfulness, guilt and badness, and repents. He sees Jesus Christ to be that Divine Savior whom his soul needs, and commits himself to Him. He puts off the old man with his corrupt and carnal habits and puts on the new man. He lives a new and holy life, fighting habitually against the world, the flesh and the devil. Christ Himself is the cornerstone of his Christianity. Ask him in what he trusts for the forgiveness of his many sins, and he will tell you in the death of Christ. Ask him in what righteousness he hopes to stand innocent at the judgment day, and he will tell you it is the righteousness of Christ. Ask him by what pattern he tries to frame his life, and he will tell you that it is the example of Christ. But, beside all this, there is one thing in a true Christian which is eminently peculiar to him. That thing is love to Christ.
J.C. Ryle

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Inspirational Letter From Jesus Wednesday

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#1 · May 31, 2006, 1:54 pm

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

"Dear Friend"
 
I just had to write to tell you how much I love you and care for you. Yesterday, I saw you walking and laughing with your friends. I hoped that soon you'd want Me to walk along with you, too, so I painted you a sunset to close your day and whispered a cool breeze to refresh you. I waited - you never called. I just kept on loving you.
 
As I watched you fall asleep last night, I wanted so much to touch you. I spilled moonlight onto your face - trickling down your cheeks as so many tears have. You didn't even think of me. I wanted so much to comfort you.
 
The next day I exploded a brilliant sunrise into a glorious morning for you. But you woke up late and rushed off to work - you didn't even notice. My sky became cloudy and My tears were the rain.
 
I love you. Oh, if you'd only listen. I really love you. I try to say it in the quiet of the green meadow and in the blue sky. The wind whispers My love throughout the treetops and spills it into the vibrant colors of the flowers. I shout it to you in the thunder of the great waterfalls and compose love songs for birds to sing for you. I warm you with the clothing of My sunshine and perfume the air with nature's sweet scent. My love for you is deeper than the ocean and greater than any need in your heart. If you'd only realize how I care. I died just for you.
 
My Dad sends His love. I want you to meet Him. He cares, too. Fathers are just that way. So, please call Me soon. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait because I love you.
 
Your Friend,
Jesus
 

"THE TROUBLE PILE"
 
 
"Where do you go
Today, old man.
With that great load
There on your back?"
The old man just grumbled
As he hobbled a long
Holding Tight to
The bulging sack.
 
"I say, old man,
"cried the boy again
"Do you carry
A sack of gold?"
"Nay, lad,"
The old man whispered.
"Tis just troubles
that's all I hold."
 
"This sack I've carried,
All my life
Each trouble I've had is here.
They've grown till now,
My back grows bent
With every passing year.
 
"There's grief and pain,
there's hurt and woe,
There are trials
And sins galore
But I'm going now
To the trouble pile
And I won't pack
These no more."
 
The boy looked up
With a troubled glance.
"Tell me, what's
The trouble pile?
I'd like to know,
And while we talk
You can sit
And rest a while."
 
"I lack the time,"
The old man said,
I've got to rush along.
I want to get to the trouble pile
"Fore the little troubles are gone.
 
"You see, it's a place
Where all can go
To trade troubles
Great and small
You can leave yours there
And pick new ones up.
Why, I'll trade 'till
I've none at all."
 
The boy glanced down
At his twisted leg,
And he blinked to hold back a tear.
"Could I trade this leg
For a good one," he asked,
"If the trouble pile was here?"
 
"Of course, you could,"
The old man was gruff.
"But there's still
A long way to go.
I've got to hurry or I'll be late,
And crippled you'd be too slow."
 
So the boy sat down
And watched the man,
Disappear in the morning light,
The hours wore on
And still he watched
As the day moved on to night.
 
At last, there in the distance,
The old man walked tall and strong,
A bulging sack still on his back,
But on his lips, a song.
 
"I see you traded, mister,
And lost your heavy load,
His little voice grew wistful
As he looked back down the road.
 
The old man grinned
And tossed his bag
With a thud, in the dusty track.
And he smiled a smile
At the little boy
As he sat and leaned lazily back.
 
"Now, I'll tell you, lad,
Though you'll not believe
But that sack is the same as I had.
When I saw the troubles of other folks.
I found mine not half so bad.
 
"Sure, I've hardly got a trouble now,
And I'll tell you something too
If you could see that trouble pile,
You'd keep that bad leg too.
 
"Cause I've done a bit of thinking
As I walked along the way.
And if we worked hard
On that leg of yours
It would grow straight
And strong to stay,
 
"Now I've really
Nothing much to do
And a crutch I could make for a start."
Then he hugged the boy to hide a tear,
And the joy in an old man's heart.
 
So the boy and the man
Worked together,
From morning to the last
Light of day,
And the twisted leg
Finally was straightened,
And the boy could soon
Run and play.
 
It was then the old man
Knew he must leave,
And again he shouldered his sack,
But no longer did it bulge
With his troubles
It just hung there
Loose on his back!
 
For while he was helping another.
His own troubles faded away,
He had truly found the trouble pile,
It's there if you look for the way.
Author Unknown
 
Have a Blessed Day
Dave and Barbara
 
 
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