One Solitary Life
Here is a young man, born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village. He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty, and then for three years He was an interant preacher.He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never owned a home. He never had a family. He never went to college. He never put His foot inside a big city. He never traveled 200 miles from the place where He was born. He never did one of the things that usually accompany greatness. He had no credentials but Himself.
While He was still a young man the tide of public opinion turned against Him. His friends ran away. He was turned over to His enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial.
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While He was dying, His executioners gambled for the only piece of property He had on earth, and that was His coat....
When He was dead He was laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend.
Nineteen centuries wide have come and gone, and today He is the central figure of the human race and the leader of the column of progress.
I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that ever sailed, and all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this earth as has that ONE SOLITARY LIFE.
This page is lovingly dedicated to my LORD.
The background is complements of Heartland Meadows 5217. Thank-you.
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