We were just settling down in class after break when we heard a heart rending scream. A second scream rend the air. The scream was from the headmaster's house only a few meters away. Class was quickly abandoned. Everybody ran towards the house and just outside the house was the headmaster's wife screaming that her little boy of four had fallen in the pit latrine. She was inconsolable.

You see, in Africa up to the late sixties there were no flush toilets as the ones you find in the developed world. Most of the villagers would dig a deep well about thirty feet and cover the top with planks of wood leaving fairly large square opening at the centre through which the waste would pass through.

It was through this hole which for some reason was larger than usual that the boy had fallen into the waste below and would soon die if it was not rescued immediately.

The villagers quickly got a long rope for some to descend down and try rescue the young boy. But there was a question of who would go down for the rescue mission. I remember very well that the headmaster had a suite and tie as befitted a man of his class but he quickly took them off and made for the pit as he loved his son dearly and could not bear to let him die.

The boy was rescued and both he and his father were rushed to hospital. The smell emanating from them was so strong that they had to be washed and scrubbed behind the hospital before any doctor could safely attend to them. It was said that they had to be disinfected and scrubbed thoroughly daily for three days before they join the public at large.

I remembered this story the other day when I tried to imagine hoe Jesus so pure, so Holy and so righteous had to take my sins (and you can bet they were filthy) and the sins of the world upon Himself that he may redeem us and restore us back to God.

Surely our sins were a million times filthier than the dirt in that pit latrine but just as the headmaster did not care how filthy he would be or what people would say, so was our savior's Love. So great, greater than all the sins, so deep deeper than the depth people go into evil that He was able to go through it all for me and you.

As though that was not enough he was tortured, beaten ridiculed, spat on, made to carry the cross, be nailed on he cross and die that by his death we may be reconciled to God and cleansed by His blood.

He is now asking, I did all this for you that I may restore you to God, will you believe in me? Behold I stand at the door of your heart and knock ('I have been knocking for a long time') won't you open the door of your heart for me?

Make this the day that you accept Jesus into your heart that His sacrifice may not be in vain.

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We were just settling down in class after break when we heard a heart rending scream. A second scream rend the air. The scream was from the headmaster's house only a few meters away. Class was quickly abandoned. Everybody ran towards the house and just outside the house was the headmaster's wife screaming that her little boy of four had fallen in the pit latrine. She was inconsolable.

You see, in Africa up to the late sixties there were no flush toilets as the ones you find in the developed world. Most of the villagers would dig a deep well about thirty feet and cover the top with planks of wood leaving fairly large square opening at the centre through which the waste would pass through.

It was through this hole which for some reason was larger than usual that the boy had fallen into the waste below and would soon die if it was not rescued immediately.

The villagers quickly got a long rope for some to descend down and try rescue the young boy. But there was a question of who would go down for the rescue mission. I remember very well that the headmaster had a suite and tie as befitted a man of his class but he quickly took them off and made for the pit as he loved his son dearly and could not bear to let him die.

The boy was rescued and both he and his father were rushed to hospital. The smell emanating from them was so strong that they had to be washed and scrubbed behind the hospital before any doctor could safely attend to them. It was said that they had to be disinfected and scrubbed thoroughly daily for three days before they join the public at large.

I remembered this story the other day when I tried to imagine hoe Jesus so pure, so Holy and so righteous had to take my sins (and you can bet they were filthy) and the sins of the world upon Himself that he may redeem us and restore us back to God.

Surely our sins were a million times filthier than the dirt in that pit latrine but just as the headmaster did not care how filthy he would be or what people would say, so was our savior's Love. So great, greater than all the sins, so deep deeper than the depth people go into evil that He was able to go through it all for me and you.

As though that was not enough he was tortured, beaten ridiculed, spat on, made to carry the cross, be nailed on he cross and die that by his death we may be reconciled to God and cleansed by His blood.

He is now asking, I did all this for you that I may restore you to God, will you believe in me? Behold I stand at the door of your heart and knock ('I have been knocking for a long time') won't you open the door of your heart for me?

Make this the day that you accept Jesus into your heart that His sacrifice may not be in vain.

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