Vote Casting

-
I gave a gospel tract to a man coming out of Wal-mart. The tract told him that the public office is a high position, but there is a higher position we must attain. We must:

1) Accept the fact there is none righteous (Romans 3:10);

2) See self as God sees: all have sinned (Romans 3:23);

3) Sin hinders the race (Romans 5:12);

4) The race is more costly than any campaign funds could cover (Titus 3:5; Isaiah 64:6);

5) Someone has paid the price and the race is won (Romans 5:6);

6) The debt is paid (Romans 10:9-11);

7) Satan votes against you (1 Peter 5:8);

The office of Christian is not one taken lightly. One must count the cost and either serve the true and living God, starting with repentance; or, one may receive the due penalty for his sin by rejecting what God has done through the cross.

The vote is yours.

Will you cast you vote away, like this man did?




Popular posts from this blog

The Island-Fish

-
Image
  “O ye passengers, whom may God preserve! come up quickly in to the ship, hasten to embark, and leave your merchandise, and flee with your lives, and save yourselves from destruction; for this apparent island, upon which ye are, is not really an island, but it is a great fish that hath become stationary in the midst of the sea, and the sand hath accumulated upon it, so that it hath become like an island, and trees have grown upon it since times of old; and when ye lighted the fire upon it, the fish felt the heat, and put itself in motion, and now it will descend with you into the sea, and ye will all be drowned: then seek for yourselves escape before destruction, and leave the merchandise.—The passengers, therefore, hearing the words of the master of the ship, hastened to go up into the vessel, leaving the merchandise, and their other goods, and their copper cooking-pots, and their fire-pots; and some reached the ship, and others reached it not. The island had moved, and descended...
Read more

“And so, about this tomb of mine . . . “

-
Image
  “VANITY, saith the preacher, vanity!  Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back?  Nephews—sons mine … ah God, I know not! Well—  She, men would have to be your mother once,  Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was!  What’s done is done, and she is dead beside,  Dead long ago, and I am Bishop since,  And as she died so must we die ourselves,  And thence ye may perceive the world’s a dream.  Life, how and what is it?  As here I lie In this state-chamber, dying by degrees,  Hours and long hours in the dead night,  I ask “Do I live, am I dead?”  Peace, peace seems all.  Saint Praxed’s ever was the church for peace;  And so, about this tomb of mine.  I fought With tooth and nail to save my niche, ye know:  —Old Gandolf cozened me, despite my care;  Shrewd was that snatch from out the corner  South He graced his carrion with,  God curse the same!  Yet still my niche is not so cramped...
Read more