Sunday School Picnic

By Johnny Angel

Dear friends,

This is a story that was in Mark Lowry's newsletter a few days ago. I found it very helpful. Please be praying for me. I have a lot of tests and decisions to deal with right now.

N Prayer,
Johnny <*}}}><

SUNDAY SCHOOL PICNIC

by Bob Benson

Do you remember when they had old fashioned Sunday school picnics? It was before air-conditioning. They said, "We'll meet at Sycamore Lodge in Shelby Park at 4:30 Saturday. You bring your supper and we'll furnish the tea."

But you came home at the last minute and when you got ready to pack your lunch, all you could find in the refrigerator was one dried up piece of baloney and just enough mustard in the bottom of the jar so that you got it all over your knuckles trying to get to it. And there were just two stale pieces of bread. So you made your baloney sandwich and wrapped it in some brown bag and went to the picnic.

When it came time to eat you sat at the end of a table and spread out your sandwich. But the folks next to you--the lady was a good cook and she had worked all day and she had fried chicken, and baked beans, and potato salad and homemade rolls and sliced tomatoes, and pickles, and olives, and celery and topped it off with two big homemade chocolate pies. And they spread it all out beside you and there you were with your baloney sandwich.

But they said to you, "Why don't we put it all together?" "No, I couldn't do that, I just couldn't even think of it," your murmured embarrassed. "Oh, come on, there's plenty of chicken and plenty of pie, and plenty of everything--and we just love baloney sandwiches. Let's just put it all together." And so you did and there you sat--eating like a king when you came like a pauper.

And I get to thinking-- I think of me "sharing in the very being of God." 2nd Peter 1:4 (NEB) When I think of how little I bring, and how much He brings and that He invites me to "share," I know I should be shouting from the housetops, but I am so filled with awe and wonder that I can hardly be heard.

I know you don't have enough love and faith, or grace, or mercy or wisdom. But He has--He has all those things in abundance and says, "Let's just put it all together. Everything I possess is available to you. Everything I am and can be to a person, I will be to you."

When I think about it like that, it really amuses me to see somebody running along through life hanging on to their dumb bag with that stale baloney sandwich saying, "God's not going to get my sandwich! No siree, this is mine!" Did you ever see anybody like that--so needy--just about half-starved to death, hanging on for dear life?

It's not that He needs your sandwich. The fact is, you need his chicken.


N Prayer,
Johnny <*}}}><