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| Photo: Amazon |
Excerpted from Confessions of a Happy Christian by Zig Ziglar
He was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman.
Until He was thirsty He worked in a carpenter shop, and then for thirteen years
He was an itinerant preacher.
He wrote no books. He held no office. He never owned a home. He was never
in big city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place where He was born.
He never did one of the things that usually accompany greatness.
The authorities condemned His teachings. His friend deserted Him. One betrayed Him
to His enemies for paltry sum. One denied Him. He went through the mockery of a trial.
He was nailed upon a cross between two thieves. While He was dying His executioners
gambled for the only piece of property He owned on Earth-His coat. When he was dead
He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave.
Nineteen wide centuries have come and gone, yet today He is crowning glory of the
human race, the adored leader of millions of the Earth's inhabitants.
All the armies that ever marched and all the navies that were ever built and all
the parliaments that ever sat and all the rulers that ever reigned-put together-have
not affected the life of man upon this Earth so profoundly as that One Solitary Life!
