It was lunch hour! Five of us guys, in fact, all except Tom, were in a huddle, telling some of the funniest dirty stories. We had some great times-boy, did we laugh-the dirtier the story, the more we laughed.
Well, on this day I am telling you about, we ran out of stories just as Tom walked by. "Hey, Tom," I said, "know a good story-a good dirty one?"
At that, everybody laughed, for they knew Tom was a Christian. He had said that these stories make him feel bad. He never listens. Great guy, for he's no hypocrite. Say, you can imagine my surprise, when Tom stopped and said, "Sure, Bill, I'll tell you a story; but it's so dirty I don't think you fellows will like it. What do you say?"
Honestly, I wished Tom hadn't said that, for I had always secretly looked up to him; the other guys didn't say a word, so I came out quick-like with "Shoot the filth, Tom."
"Well," says Tom, "there was a guy who worked at this store who was a dirty son of the devil. You fellows know him. He was bad to drink. Many nights he got so drunk he lay unconscious in his filth and vomit. One night he almost killed a man in a fight he didn't remember. Twice he wrecked his car. Once he even struck his mother in his drunken rage. He was a dirty guy. When he was drunk he was also bad for women. Some nights he lay in a brothel until they got all his money. His body became diseased from sin. In his lust, he deceived an innocent girl, gradually broke down her resistance, and at last set her feet on a path of sin from which she never departed. Then he kicked her out. He was a dirty guy."
As Tom told about this guy, we all sat still. His eyes held us with their intensity. Then he continued, kind of soft-like, and a tear seemed to tremble in his eye. "One night this dirty so-and-so drifted by a street corner. Some nice, clean-looking young people were singing so sweetly, and with such happy faces, that he stopped and listened. It was an old song that he had heard his mother sing!"
There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains:
The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day;
And there may I, though vile as he, Wash all my sins away:
"The dirty so-and-so grunted and staggered on back of the building. There he fell, crouched in a corner, and cried like a baby. 'O God,' said he, 'O God, forgive me and save me.' And God did. "Fellows, that dirty guy was me. It's the dirtiest story I know."
Nobody laughed or said a word. All the boys just walked away. When they left, I sneaked after Tom. He was back of the tool-house, alone.
Well, to make a long story short, he told me how to be saved. He said, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved," and, "But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name:" So I accepted Christ, and boy, am I ever glad I did!
"Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures . . . and was buried . . . and rose again the third day according to the scriptures." (1 Corinthians 15:3,4).
All who call on the name of this ever-living, soon-coming Saviour shall find peace in Him. Dear reader, won't you accept Jesus now?