One Solitary Life

One Solitary Life 

Here is a man who was 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. Then for three years He was an itinerant
preacher.

He never owned a home. He never wrote a book. He never
held an office. He never had a family. He never went to
college. He never put His foot inside a big city. He
never traveled two hundred miles from the place He was
born. He never did one of the things that usually
accompany greatness. He had no credentials but Himself.

While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion
turned against Him. His friends ran away. One of them
denied Him. He was turned over to His enemies. He went
through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed upon a
cross between two thieves. While He was dying, His
executioners gambled for the only piece of property He
had on earth--His coat. When He was dead, He was laid
in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend.

Nineteen long centuries have come and gone, and today
He is a centerpiece of the human race and leader of the
column of progress.

I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies
that ever marched, all the navies that were ever built,
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 powerfully as has that
one solitary life. 

  Thank you Jesus.