I saw a strange sight.
I stumbled upon a story most strange like nothing my life,
my street sense, my sly tongue had even prepared me for.
Hush, child. Hush now and I will tell it to you.
Even before the dawn one Friday morning I noticed a young man,
handsome and strong, walking the alleys of our city.
He was pulling an old cart filled with clothes both bright and new,
and he was calling in a clear, tenor voice: "Rags!"
Ah, the air was foul and the first light filthy to be crossed by such sweet music.
"Rags! New rags for old! I take your tired rags! Rags!"
"Now, this is a wonder," I thought to myself,
for the man stood six- feet-four,
and his arms were like tree limbs, hard and muscular,
and his eyes flashed intelligence.
Could he find no better job than this, to be a ragman in the inner city?
So I followed him. My curiosity drove me. And I wasn't disappointed.
Soon the Ragman saw a woman sitting on her back porch.
She was sobbing into a handkerchief,
sighing, and shedding a thousand tears.
Her knees and elbows made a sad X.
Her shoulders shook. Her heart was breaking.
The Ragman stopped his cart.
Quietly, he walked to the woman,
stepping round tin cans, dead toys and Pampers.
"Give me your rag," he said so gently,
"and I'll give you another."
He slipped the handkerchief from her eyes.
She looked up and he laid across her palm
a linen cloth so clean and new that it shined.
She blinked from the gift to the giver.
Then, as he began to pull his cart again,
the Ragman did a strange thing:
he put her stained handkerchief to his own face;
and then he began to weep,
to sob as grievously as she had done,
he shoulders shaking.
Yet she was left without a tear.
"This is a wonder," I breathed to myself,
and I followed the sobbing Ragman
like a child who cannot turn away a mystery.
"Rag! Rag! New rags for old!"
In a little while,
when the sky showed grey behind the rooftops
and I could see the shredded curtains hanging out black windows,
the Ragman came upon a girl whose head was wrapped in a bandage,
eyes were empty.
Blood soaked her bandage.
A single line of blood ran down her cheek.
Now the tall Ragman looked upon this child with pity,
and he drew a lovely yellow bonnet from his cart.
"Give me your rag," he said,
tracing his own line on her cheek,
"and I'll give you mine."
The child could only gaze at him while he loosened the bandage,
removed it, and tied it to his own head.
The bonnet he set on hers. And I gasped at what I saw:
for with bandage went the wound!
Against his brow it ran a darker,
more substantial blood-his own!
"Rag! Rags! I take old rags!" cried the sobbing,
bleeding, strong, intelligent Ragman.
The sun hurt both the sky, now, and my eyes;
the Ragman seemed more and more to hurry.
"Are you going to work?" he asked a man leaned against a telephone pole.
The man shook his head.
The Ragman pressed him: "Do you have a job?"
"Are you crazy?" sneered the other.
He pulled away from the pole, revealing the right sleeve of his jacket
- flat, the cuff stuffed into the pocket.
He had no arm.
"So," said the Ragman. "Give me your jacket,
and I'll give you mine."
Such quiet authority in his voice!
The one-armed man took off his jacket.
So did the Ragman -
and I trembled at what I saw:
for the Ragman's arm stayed in its sleeve,
and when the other put it on he had two good arms,
thick as tree limbs: but the Ragman had only one.
"Go to work," he said.
After that he found a drunk,
lying unconscious beneath an army blanket,
an old man hunched, wizened, and sick.
He took that blanket and wrapped it round himself,
but for the drunk he left new clothes.
And now I had to run to keep up with the Ragman.
Though he was weeping uncontrollably,
and bleeding freely at the forehead,
pulling his cart with one arm,
stumbling for drunkenness, falling again and again,
exhausted, old, old, and sick,
yet he went with terrible speed.
On spider's legs he skittered through the alleys of the City,
this mile and the next, until he came to its limits,
and then he rushed beyond.
I wept to see the changes in this man.
I hurt to see his sorrow.
And yet I needed to see where he was going in such haste,
perhaps to know what drove him so.
The little old Ragman - he came to a landfill.
He came to the garbage pits.
And then I wanted to help him in what he did,
but I hung back, hiding.
He climbed a hill.
With tormented labour he cleared a little space on that hill.
Then he sighed.
He lay down.
He pillowed his head on a handkerchief and a jacket.
He covered his bones with an army blanket. And he died.
Oh, how I cried to witness that death!
I slumped in a junked car and wailed and mourned as one who has no hope -
because I had come to love the Ragman.
Every other face had faded in the wonder of this man,
and I cherished him;
but he died.
I sobbed myself to sleep.
I did not know - how could I know? --
that I slept through Friday night and Saturday and its night, too.
But then, on Sunday morning,
I was awakened by a violence.
Light - pure, hard, demanding light -
slammed against my sour face,
and I blinked, and I looked,
and I saw the last and the first wonder of all.
There was the Ragman,
folding the blanket most carefully,
a scar on his forehead,
but alive!
And, beside that, healthy!
There was no sign of sorrow nor of age,
and all the rags that he had gathered shined for cleanliness.
Well, then I lowered my head and,
trembling for all that I had seen,
I myself walked up to the Ragman.
I told him my name with shame,
for I was a sorry figure next to him.
Then I took off all my clothes in that place,
and I said to him with dear yearning in my voice:
"Dress me.."
He dressed me. My Lord,
he put new rags on me, and I am a wonder beside him.
The Ragman, the Ragman, the Christ!
~THE END~
Author: Rev. Walt Wangerin
Sunday, April 4, 2010
The final Inspection
FINAL INSPECTION
Final Inspection
The Policeman stood and faced his God, Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, officer. How shall I deal with You?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To my Church have you been true?"
The officer squared his shoulders and said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Cause those of us who carry badges can't always be a saint.
But I never took a penny that wasn't mine to keep,
Though I worked a lot of overtime when the bills just got too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me, I wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place among the people here.
They never wanted me around except to calm their fear.
If you've a place for me here, Lord, it needn't be so grand.
I've never expected or had too much. But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne where the saints had often trod.
As the officer waited quietly for the answer of his God.
"Step forward now, Officer, you've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's Streets. You've done your time in Hell."
Author unknown
I am a Police Officer, I am a Christian. I am very human, I make mistakes, I fall down and try to get back up again. Sometimes it's difficult. God didn't come to condemn us but to lift us up from the muck of life. Jesus said, I am the way the truth and the life, no one comes to the father but by me.
I am an FTO,(field training officer) I get the new recruits from school and try to mold them into police officers. I spend several weeks with them, they go off to another person the back to me. I then watch them function on their own basically, I'm now observing them. You see they have to pass by me to get to the end of their training. I put my stamp of approval on them or not.
It's like that with us and Christ. He has the final inspection on them / us. We have to pass an inspection with God. He puts his final stamp of approval on us. For the majority of my life in my jobs I have had to be in an inspection in one way or another. I used to build computer chips, then quality control would inspect them. I made Falcon Pipets, quality control would inspect them, I am a cop now. When I do a report a supervisor inspects a report and suggest changes. I go to court and a judge and two attorneys read what I do and tear it apart. I live and have lived under some form of inspection for the last 23 years of my jobs.
I hope when I get to heaven, God looks at me and says well done. You see it's not the work you do but one simple deed. Its the A,B,C's. Ask, Believe and Confess, after that did you do what you needed to do to pass muster. When you get there then you get looked at. Without the simple act of accepting Christ you could never even make it in the line. It's not our works that gets us in heaven but our simple act of accepting Christ. The works that we do are what we are supposed to do.
Will you pass inspection, have you done what you needed to do? When God looks for your name did you maintain your salvation? Did you try to follow Gods word? Remember in Genesis, "the word was God and the Word was with God." Who and what do you think the Word is? It is Jesus, Jesus is the word, the way and the truth, did you follow the word?
We have an awesome chance for a great life. We have been given a gift, salvation is more than just getting to Heaven. Salvation is also a rescue here on earth. Saved from the fiery darts and slings of the wicked one.
The Bible states that Satan roams the earth to and fro seeking whom he may devour. If you allow him to by NOT protecting your salvation he will try to destroy you. If you put yourself in that place you will pay a price. Salvation is a gift, it came at a very expensive price. Don't throw it away.
Will you pass the final inspection, will your name be read?
When you are poured out and measured, will you be found wanting?
watch this
God bless all yall... Gary Smith
Final Inspection
The Policeman stood and faced his God, Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, officer. How shall I deal with You?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To my Church have you been true?"
The officer squared his shoulders and said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Cause those of us who carry badges can't always be a saint.
But I never took a penny that wasn't mine to keep,
Though I worked a lot of overtime when the bills just got too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me, I wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place among the people here.
They never wanted me around except to calm their fear.
If you've a place for me here, Lord, it needn't be so grand.
I've never expected or had too much. But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne where the saints had often trod.
As the officer waited quietly for the answer of his God.
"Step forward now, Officer, you've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's Streets. You've done your time in Hell."
Author unknown
I am a Police Officer, I am a Christian. I am very human, I make mistakes, I fall down and try to get back up again. Sometimes it's difficult. God didn't come to condemn us but to lift us up from the muck of life. Jesus said, I am the way the truth and the life, no one comes to the father but by me.
I am an FTO,(field training officer) I get the new recruits from school and try to mold them into police officers. I spend several weeks with them, they go off to another person the back to me. I then watch them function on their own basically, I'm now observing them. You see they have to pass by me to get to the end of their training. I put my stamp of approval on them or not.
It's like that with us and Christ. He has the final inspection on them / us. We have to pass an inspection with God. He puts his final stamp of approval on us. For the majority of my life in my jobs I have had to be in an inspection in one way or another. I used to build computer chips, then quality control would inspect them. I made Falcon Pipets, quality control would inspect them, I am a cop now. When I do a report a supervisor inspects a report and suggest changes. I go to court and a judge and two attorneys read what I do and tear it apart. I live and have lived under some form of inspection for the last 23 years of my jobs.
I hope when I get to heaven, God looks at me and says well done. You see it's not the work you do but one simple deed. Its the A,B,C's. Ask, Believe and Confess, after that did you do what you needed to do to pass muster. When you get there then you get looked at. Without the simple act of accepting Christ you could never even make it in the line. It's not our works that gets us in heaven but our simple act of accepting Christ. The works that we do are what we are supposed to do.
Will you pass inspection, have you done what you needed to do? When God looks for your name did you maintain your salvation? Did you try to follow Gods word? Remember in Genesis, "the word was God and the Word was with God." Who and what do you think the Word is? It is Jesus, Jesus is the word, the way and the truth, did you follow the word?
We have an awesome chance for a great life. We have been given a gift, salvation is more than just getting to Heaven. Salvation is also a rescue here on earth. Saved from the fiery darts and slings of the wicked one.
The Bible states that Satan roams the earth to and fro seeking whom he may devour. If you allow him to by NOT protecting your salvation he will try to destroy you. If you put yourself in that place you will pay a price. Salvation is a gift, it came at a very expensive price. Don't throw it away.
Will you pass the final inspection, will your name be read?
When you are poured out and measured, will you be found wanting?
watch this
God bless all yall... Gary Smith
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