My truth....

To many Jesus Christ is only a person subject for a beautiful painting, a heroic theme for a pen, a beautiful form for a statue and athought for a song; but to those who have heard His voice, who have felt his pardon, who have recieved his benediction, He is music, warmth, light, joy, hope and salvation, a friend who never forsakes, who lifts us when others try to push us down. We cannot wear him out; we pile on Him all our griefs and troubles. He is always redy to lift us; He is always ready to help us; He addresses with same love, He beams upon us with the same smile; he pities us with the same compasion. there is no name like His. It is more inspiring than Ceaser's, more musical that Beethovan's, more conquering than Napolean's, more eloquent than Demosthenes', more patient that Lincoln's. The name of Jesus throbs with all life, weeps with all pathos, groans with all pains, stoops with all love. its breath is laden with perfume. Who like Jesus can pity a homeless orphan? Who like Jesus can welcome a prodigal back home? Who like Jesus can make a drunkard sober?. Who like Jesus can illuminate a cemetry plowed with graves? Who like Jesus can make a queen unto God out of a woman of street? Who like Jesus can catch the tears of human sorrow in His bowl? Who like Jesus can kiss away our sorrow?????

I struggle for a metaphor with which to express Jesus. He is not like the Bursting forth of an orchestra; that is too loud and it may be out of tune. He is not like the sea when lashed into a rage by a storm; that is too boisterous. He is not like a mountain, wreathed in lightning, canopied with snow, it is too solitary and remote.

He is the Lily of the Valley, the Rose of Sharon, a gale of spices from heaven.....------ Billy Sunday