An artist was one day sketching beside a little stream in a lovely cool spot in the woods. Near him frisked and chattered a mother squirrel and her baby, playing tag as they scampered along the ground and leaped from tree to tree.
Suddenly the mother squirrel jumped across the stream to the other bank, and then turned to wait for her baby to cross behind her. But the little fellow was afraid to take the long leap. In spite of all her coaxing, he would not jump across.
Then suddenly the mother thought of a way. Catching hold of a loose branch nearby she dragged and shoved it across the water until it touched the other side. In a moment the baby squirrel had crossed on the branch, and the two disappeared into the woods.
The artist thought of another bridge—the bridge between heaven and earth, between sinful man and a holy God. No child of fallen Man could cross that gulf and there was no bridge until Jesus the Son of God came and died for sinners upon the cross. His work of redemption has bridged that gap, and that bridge will stand forever. God has come in all His grace to man, and man can now go into His presence through the blood of Jesus.
Thousands have crossed this bridge and are safe home in the glory land. That gate is still open. Dear unsaved reader, enter now while you may!
ML-08/28/1977