Without a Word
A member of a certain church,
who previously had been attending services regularly,
stopped going. After a few weeks, the pastor decided to
visit him. It was a chilly evening. The pastor found the man
at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire. Guessing the
reason for his pastor's visit, the man welcomed him, led him
to a big chair near the fireplace and waited.
The pastor made himself comfortable but said nothing. In the
grave silence, he contemplated the play of the flames around
the burning logs. After some minutes, the pastor took the
fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and
placed it to one side of the hearth all alone. Then he sat
back in his chair, still silent. The host watched all this
in quiet fascination. As the one lone ember's flame
diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was
no more. Soon it was cold and "dead as a doornail." Not a
word had been spoken since the initial greeting. Just before
the pastor was ready to leave, he picked up the cold, dead
ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire.
Immediately it began to glow once more with the light and
warmth of the burning coals around it.
As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said,
"Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the
fiery sermon. I shall be back in church next Sunday."
Author unknown. If anyone has a proprietary interest in this story please authenticate and I will be happy to credit, or remove, as the circumstances dictate.
Thanks to the Prodigal Son