I started to cry, thinking about going home,
So I prayed to Jesus not to leave me alone.
Lord, look at me, hanging my head low,
For I’m ashamed of how I let my life go.
He said, if in my Bible, I would read a verse,
He’d rebuke the devil and remove his curse.
So I got on my knees and prayed with all my might
That He’d banish the darkness and shed everlasting
light.
I opened up my heart and let Jesus right in.
I fervently prayed that He’d get rid of my sin.
And now I’m so glad Jesus sent me to jail,
For I’ve a great testimony that I am proud to tell.
With timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his
father as he returned from work, "Daddy, how much do you make an
hour?" Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father
said: "Look, son, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now,
I'm tired."
"But Daddy, just tell me please!? How much do you make an hour," the
boy insisted.The father, finally giving up, replied: "Twenty dollars per
hour."
"Okay, Daddy? Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked. Showing his
restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled:
"So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to sleep
and don't bother me anymore!"
It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said.
"So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to sleep
and don't bother me anymore!"
It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said
and was feeling guilty? Maybe he thought, his son wanted to buy
something. Finally, trying to ease his mind, the father went to his
son's room.
"Are you asleep, son?" asked the father.
"No, Daddy. Why?" replied the boy, partially asleep.
"Here's the money you asked for earlier, " the father said.
"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his
pillow and removing some money. "Now I have enough!! Now I have
twenty dollars!" the boy said to his father, who was gazing at his
son, confused at what his son had just said.
"Daddy, could you sell me one hour of your time?"
*******************************************************************************************
A MIRACLE FOR ME
Once I was evil
In what I’d say and do,
Injecting cocaine,
Denying you.
I lurked in the shadows;
I crept at night,
Robbing and stealing.
I was Satan’s delight.
Doomed to death,
Eternity in hell,
It was my way of life…
One I knew well.
Although I could see,
I must have been blind,
For you were right there,
Throwing me a line.
I heard your call
As you beckoned to me,
“Take hold of my hand;
I shall set you free.
I reached up my hands
Toward the sky.
I called to you, Father,
With tears in my eyes.
I asked you for mercy,
For you to forgive.
I pleaded my case.
I wanted to live.
A miracle has happened,
I can honestly say,
For Jesus my Savior
Has blessed me today.
I walk in the light,
My eyes opened wide,
Love overflowing,
Joy in my eyes.
Ears that were deaf
Now can hear.
The ways of the wicked
Have all disappeared.
This is my testimony
To you, my friend,
For Jesus so loved us,
He died for our sins.
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read beneath the long,
straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good
reason to frown, for the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day, a young boy out of breath
approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head
tilted down and said with great excitement, "Look what I found!
"In his
hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, with its petals all wore -
not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, I faked a small
smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my
side and placed the flower to his nose, and declared with overacted surprise,
"It
sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it; here,
it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead. not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow
or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached
for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need.
"But instead of him placing the
flower in my hand, he held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time that weed-toting boy
could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun as
I thanked him for picking the very best one.
You're welcome," he smiled, and
then ran off to play, unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying woman
beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see the problem was not
with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had
been blind,I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second
that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the
fragrance of a beautiful rose, and smiled as I watched that young boy,
another weed in his hand, about to change the life of an unsuspecting old
man.
