After years of experience, Brenda was faced with a challenge in Sunday School that she just didn’t know how to handle. She had never been asked to teach a child quite like Cindy!

Cindy, you see, was different. She came from a broken home. She was poor. And although she was really fairly bright, she had such a low opinion of herself that she was also an under achiever. Cindy needed love, but most of all, Cindy needed Jesus! There just had to be a way of getting through to her.

Day after day, Brenda would pray for Cindy, yet Sunday would come and go and she saw little, if any, change.

Then one day Brenda asked Cindy if she thought she could play a specific role in a Christmas Program the children were planning to do. Cindy’s response was, “Don’t you think you can find someone better than me?”

“Better than you,” came Brenda’s reply. “What makes you think there is anyone better than you?”

“Well, I’ve never been asked to do anything before because I’m no good. I mess everything up. I won’t get the part right and then everyone will be mad at me for messing up their program,” came Cindy’s answer.

“Oh, Cindy,” said Brenda in gentle voice. “I am so sorry that you think that, but you are so wrong. Don’t you realize how valuable you are to God?”

“No,” came a muffled reply for Cindy was now in tears.

“Well, Cindy,” continued Brenda. “Tell me, what was the price that God paid for you… what was He willing to give for your soul.”

“He gave His son, Jesus,” replied Cindy.

“And what was the price that God paid for me?” questioned Brenda, again.

“He gave His son, Jesus,” replied Cindy again.

“And what was the price that God paid for Bro. Bob, the pastor of this church?” questioned Brenda, again.

“He gave His son, Jesus,” replied Cindy again with a slight smile on her face.

“Don’t you see, Cindy,” said Brenda. “Would a God that is fair and just cheat Himself?”

“I guess not,” said Cindy.

“Then your soul must be just as important to God as mine is… or Brother Bob’s…. or Paul the apostles…. or anyone else’s for that matter, and I don’t ever want to hear you say different. Okay?” questioned Brenda.

“Okay,” said Cindy as she accepted a hug from her teacher for the first time!

Cindy went on to take the part in the Christmas Program, and did an excellent job. She also has participated in many Christmas Programs since then. Eventually, she accepted God’s gift of salvation and was baptized in a farm pond not far from the church.

And for years, even after Cindy was promoted to the next class, anytime Brenda sensed that Cindy was having a tough go of it, she could always get a smile out of her by asking one simple question. “Cindy, What was the price that God paid for you!”

It seemed to serve as a reminder to Cindy that regardless of what others thought, there was someone who cared! And He cared so very much…. He even sent His Son to suffer and die on her behalf!

—–  Patty Patterson

The day is over. You are driving home. You tune in your radio. You hear a little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. It’s not influenza, but three or four fellows are dead, and it’s kind of interesting. They’re sending some doctors over there to investigate it.

You don’t think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say it’s not three villagers, it’s 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it’s on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it’s the lead story. For it’s not just India; it’s Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it, you’re hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as “the mystery flu”. The President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering, “How are we going to contain it?”

That’s when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen. That night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French news program into English: “There’s a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu.” It has come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it, you have it for a week and you don’t know it. Then you have four days of unbelievably, brutal symptoms. Then you die.

Britain closes its borders, but it’s too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and its Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the following announcement: “Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I’m sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing.”

Within four days our nation has been lunged into unbelievable fear. People are selling little masks for your face. People are talking about what if it comes to this country, and preachers on Tuesday are saying, “It’s the scourge of God.”

It’s Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and says, “Turn on a radio, turn on a radio.” While the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made, “Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery flu.”

Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country. People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It’s as though it’s just sweeping in from the borders. Then, all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It’s going to take the blood of somebody who hasn’t been infected, and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: “Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That’s all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.”

When you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line, and they’ve got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, “Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you can be dismissed and go home.” You stand around scared with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on, and thinking this must be the end of the world. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, “Daddy, that’s me.”

Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. “Wait a minute, hold it!” And they say, “It’s okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. He doesn’t have the disease. We just want to make sure he has got the right type.” Five tense minutes later out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another—some are even laughing. It’s the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, “Thank you, sir. Your son’s blood type is perfect. It’s clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine.” As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying.

But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, “May we see you for a moment? We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we need. . . we need you to sign a consent form.” You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. “H-h-h-how many pints?” And that is when the old doctor’s smile fades and he says, “We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren’t prepared. We need it all!” “But – but!” “You don’t understand. We are talking about the world here… Please sign. We – we need it all – we need it all!” “But can’t you give him a transfusion?” “If we had clean blood, his type, we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?”

In numb silence you sign. Then they say, “Would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?” Can you walk back? Can you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, “Daddy? Mommy? What’s going on?” Can you take his hands and say, “Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn’t just have to be. Do you understand that?” And when that old doctor comes back in and says, “I’m sorry, we’ve – we’ve got to get started. People all over the world are dying.” Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is saying, “Dad? Mom? Dad? Why – why have you forsaken me?”

And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don’t even come because they go to the lake, and some folks come with a retentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, “MY SON DIED! DON’T YOU CARE?”

Is that what God is saying? “MY SON DIED. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?” Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts. Maybe now we begin to comprehend the great love you have for us. Amen.

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Story : The Painting of the Son

Who is Jesus? Lets hear the answer from Him.

For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.
Sir, they said, from now on give us this bread. Then Jesus declared, I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. - John 6:33-35

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life. - John 8:12

The Shepherd and His Flock : I tell you the truth, the man who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber. The man who enters by the gate is the shepherd of his sheep. The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognise a stranger’s voice. Jesus used this figure of speech, but they did not understand what he was telling them. Therefore Jesus said again, I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who ever came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. – John 10:1-10

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd who owns the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me - just as the Father knows me and I know the Father- and I lay down my life for the sheep. - John 10:11-15

Jesus said to her, I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. - John 11:25-26

Jesus the Way to the Father : Thomas said to him, Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way? Jesus answered, I am the way and the truth and the life. No-one comes to the Father except through me. - John 14:5-6

The Vine and the Branches : I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.  I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. - John 15:1-5

“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.” - Revelation 1:8

Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and behold I am alive for ever and ever! - Revelation 1:17-18

I am he who searches hearts and minds, and I will repay each of you according to your deeds. - Revelation 2:23

I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. - Revelation 21:6

I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. - Revelation 22:13

I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star. - Revelation 22:16

I hope now all of you have a clear idea about Who Jesus is.