I Heard an Old, Old Story

I heard an old, old story,
How a Savior came from glory,
How He gave His life on Calvary
To save a wretch like me.

I heard about His groaning,
Of His precious blood's atoning,
Then I repented of my sins
And won the victory!

O victory in Jesus,
My savior, forever,
He sought me and bought me
with His redeeming blood;

He loved me ere I knew Him,
and all my love is due Him,
He plunged me to victory,
beneath the cleansing flood.
By E.M. Bartlett

We sang this song, one of my favorites, at church tonight. It reminded me that the old, old story of Jesus is brand new to someone.

My mom emailed me the following story in response to my post on Neighbors. She tells about the first time she heard the old, old story.

Many years ago when I was a little girl about 9 years old I lived
on the farm and did not have neighbor children to play with. I had an older brother who never liked to play dolls or house like I did. (figure that) But, on one occasion my parents were moving to another location in the state and moved into a small neighborhood in town. There were children in the neighborhood and I could walk to school. I was so happy to have girls to play with every day. Two
little girls lived across the street from me and one was my age. She had a younger sister and we got to play almost everyday after school. At that time my family did not attend church. So, I did not know about Jesus or about God's love. The little girls' daddy was an old time gospel preacher and she invited me to church with them. When I got to go and learned about Jesus' love for me and how he gave his life on the cross for my sins I knew I needed to confess Jesus as my Savior and be baptized. When I told my parents, they thought I was too young to be making decisions like that, but continued to allow me to attend church with my friends. Later when we moved, again to a farm, I talked my parents into taking me to church. I had met new friends from school that also went to church. My parents finally allowed me to be baptized. I shared with my parents about Jesus and through a preacher friend at my father's work my parents were convinced they needed the Lord. I know this is lengthy, but if it had not been for the little neighbor girls inviting me to church I might never have learned about Jesus.

Thanks, Mom, for that powerful testimony to loving your neighbor as yourself! What could be more loving than concern for a neighbor's soul?

I wonder where those little girls are today, some 50 years later. Do they realize they changed the course of another little girl's life and the life of her family? That little girl (my mom) grew up to teach her children about God's wonderful love and sacrifice. Now those children are teaching their children, and on it goes.

Do you know that God sent his son to save you? Do your neighbors know?

Myfriendconnie