The rain ain’t stopping. . . the show must goes on…

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Mahruaii Sailo

The rain ain’t stopping. . . the show must goes on…

The rain ain’t stopping. . . the show must goes on…

“There has never been a harsher day,” the boy thought, as he looks at the streets through the window. The wind blew as if they were taking out their vengeance on men, the rain and the hail was pouring as if there is no tomorrow.

The thick dark clouds were covering the usually green and serene landscape and thunders were rolling across the sky. Closing his ears with his hands, the boy staggered towards the living room and put on his warmest jacket.

Today is the day they distributed the gospel tracts to the people down town. He is not backing down because of the torrent.

“I am ready, Dad” he calls out.

“Ready for what? My lad”

“Dad, it is time for us to distribute the tracts”

“Oh! My boy, it is not possible to go out in this downpour, I am not going out”\

The boy was surprised. “But Dad, aren’t people still going to hell even thought it is raining”

The dad look at him for a while and replied “Son, I am not going out in this downpour”

The boy looks at his dad pleadingly and asked, ‘dad, can I go? Please”

The dad hesitated for a moment but said “son, here are the tracts, go and please be careful”

“Thanks, dad”

With piles of tracts in his bags, the boy took off happily and headed towards the other side of the town, handing the tracks door to door and to the lonely figures out in the rain

After two hours in the rain, the boy was soaking, bone-chilled wet and down to his vey last tract. Feeling jubilant, he stops on the t-point of the road and looked for someone to hand his last tract to, but the wide streets were totally empty.

He turned towards the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the door bell. He rang the bell but nobody answered. He pressed the bell again and again but still no one answer. Finally, the eleven-year-old boy turned to leave, but something stopped him. Again, he turned to the door, rang the bell, and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He waited; something was holding him there on the front porch! He rang again and this time the door slowly opened.

Standing in the doorway was a very sad-looking elderly lady. She softly asked, 'What can I do for you, son?'

With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world, the little boy said, 'Ma'am, I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that’ “JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU” and I came to give you my very last Gospel Tract which will tell you all about JESUS and His great LOVE.'

With that, he handed her his last tract and turned to leave.

She called to him as he departed. 'Thank you, son! And God Bless You!'

The following Sunday morning in the church, Pastor Dad was in the pulpit. The service begun and he asked, 'Does anybody have testimony or anything to share?'

Slowly, in the back row of the church, an elderly lady stood to her feet.

As she began to speak, a look of glorious radiance came from her face;

'No one in this church knows me. I have never been here before. You see, before last Sunday I was not a Christian. My husband passed away some months ago, leaving me totally alone in this world. Last Sunday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, it was even more so in my heart that I hit the bottom
where I no longer had any hope or will to live.

So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic of my home. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof, then stood on the chair, and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted I was about to leap off, when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs startled me. I thought, 'I'll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go away.'

I waited and waited, but the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent, and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly.

I thought to myself again, 'Who on earth could this be? Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me.' I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the bell rang louder and louder.

When I opened the door and looked I could hardly believe my eye's, for there on my front porch was the most radiant and angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life. Mere words could never describe the beauty of his smile.

The words that came from his mouth caused my heart that had long been dead, TO LEAP TO LIFE as he exclaimed with a cherub-like voice, 'Ma'am, I just came to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU.'

Then he gave me this gospel tract that I now hold in my hand.

As the little angel disappeared back out into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read slowly every word of this gospel tract.

Then I went up to my attic to get my rope and chair. I would not need them any more.

So, I am now a happy Child of the KING. Since the address of your church was on the back of this gospel tract, I have come here to personally say THANK YOU to God's little angel who came just in the nick of time and by so doing, spared my soul from an eternity in hell.”

There was not a single dry eye in the church. Moreover, as shouts of praise and honor to THE KING resounded off the very rafters of the building, Pastor Dad descended from the pulpit to the front pew where the little angel was seated.

He took his son in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Probably no church has had witnessed a more glorious moment, and probably this universe has never seen a Papa that was more filled with love & honor for his son… except for One.

Our Father also allowed His Son to go out into a cold and dark world to die for our sins. He received His Son back with joy unspeakable, and as all of heaven shouted praises and honor to The King, the Father sat His beloved Son on a throne far above all principality and power and every name that is named.

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