Showing posts with label D. L. Moody. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D. L. Moody. Show all posts

Thursday, June 19, 2014

MAN’S GRACE AND GOD’S GRACE

A BANKER’S idea of grace is that he will give people a certain time to pay a bill or account, but if they do not pay up by then, woe betide them; but God presents men with interest, capital, and all, and gives it them as a free gift!


D. L. Moody, Life Words from Gospel Addresses of D. L. Moody, ed. G. F. G. Royle (London: John Snow & Co., 1875), 86.

Friday, January 31, 2014

Many a professing Christian is a stumbling-block because

"Many a professing Christian is a stumbling-block because his worship is divided. On Sunday he worships God; on weekdays God has little or no place in his thoughts." —Dwight L. Moody

Saturday, November 30, 2013

“I hear you lost everything”

After the great Chicago fire of 1871, evangelist Dwight L. Moody went back to survey the ruins of his house. A friend came by and said to Moody, “I hear you lost everything.”
“Well,” said Moody, “you understood wrong. I have a good deal more left than I lost.”
“What do you mean?” the inquisitive friend asked. “I didn’t know you were that rich.”
Moody then opened his Bible and read to him Revelation 21:7—“He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will be his God.”


Warren W. Wiersbe, The Bible Exposition Commentary, vol. 2 (Wheaton, IL: Victor Books, 1996), 622.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Hand on Moody’s Head

 

I remember when I was a boy I went several miles from home with an older brother. That seemed to me the longest visit of my life. It seemed that I was then further away from home than I had ever been before, or have ever been since. While we were walking down the street we saw an old man coming toward us, and my brother said, “There is a man that will give you a cent. He gives every new boy that comes into this town a cent.” That was my first visit to the town, and when the old man got opposite to us he looked around, and my brother not wishing me to lose the cent, and to remind the old man that I had not received it, told him that I was a new boy in the town. The old man, taking off my hat, placed his trembling hand on my head, and told me I had a Father in heaven. It was a kind, simple act, but I feel the pressure of the old man’s hand upon my head to-day. You don’t know how much you may do by just speaking kindly.


D. L. Moody, D. L. Moody’s Child Stories Related by Him in His Revival Work, ed. J. B. McClure (Chicago: Rhodes & McClure, 1877), 72.