The Two Martins, a tale of Two Confessions

Long ago in the days of the Reformation, two men both named Martin came to faith in Jesus as Savior.

One was Martin of Basel.  Though he trusted Jesus for salvation he succumbed to fear and was unable to make a public confession of Jesus as Lord and Savior. The best he could do was to write on a piece of parchment the words, "O most merciful Christ, I know that I can be saved only by the merit of Thy blood. Holy Jesus, I acknowledge Thy sufferings for me. I love thee. I love thee." Then he hid the parchment sealing it behind one of the stones in the wall of his home. Over a hundred years later it was discovered.

The other Martin was Martin Luther.  He, too, found the Lord Jesus and accepted salvation by faith. He said, "My Lord had confessed me before men, He died for me, I will not shrink from confessing him, even before kings.!"  Boldly and without fear, Martin Luther confessed Jesus publicly before men.

The name of Martin Luther is respected and honored today, centuries after his confession before men and kings. The name of Martin of Basel is unknown and forgotten.

We should all be glad to confess the Lord Jesus.

"I tell you, whoever publicly acknowledges me before others, the son of Man will also acknowledge before the angels of God." Luke 12:8.

(c) Adron

Coins In A Jar, A Tale About Thankfulness

This is a wonderful tale based in truth and has been widely circulated in our town.  It has been an inspiration to many over the years.  I hope it inspires you.

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COINS IN A JAR, A TALE ABOUT THANKFULNESS

This account goes back to the early days of the town; when the town was just a farming community and before industry or much business had yet come to the area.

It was after the harvest season and the church deacons were meeting with the pastor to discuss the tedious affairs of budget, necessities, and giving.  It was a warm autumn day and they sat with the windows open enjoying pie and lemon aid while they talked.  The sound of birds and the neighborhood boys playing in nearby fields drifted lazily through the open window.

One deacon looked out the window and seeing the boys barefoot in torn coveralls playing ball brought something to his mind.  "Brothers, we have been blessed, so it is time we were a blessing to others.  I propose we search out the neediest family in our congregation and give them a gift to help lift their burden of poverty."

Outside the ball rolled under the pastor's window.  Billy Hanson raced the other boys to retrieve it.  Lingering, they heard part of the conversation without understanding its full impact.

The voice of the deacon continued.  "We must be discrete and keep the special gift a secret, so the family will not feel ashamed that they are the poorest family.  It may offend them and we may lose their goodwill.  Let's speak privately to the members of the church and ask who is willing to give to a special offering for this poor family."

The kids from the field called, "Billy, bring the ball."

With slow thoughtful strides, Billy returned to the field.  "I was just listening to the grown-ups talk," he told the older kids.

"You are just a kid." one of the boys said, "You don't understand the things they are talking about."

"Yes, I do!" Billy retorted.  "I know there is a family who goes to the church who is the poorest in the county, and they are going to take a special offering to help the poor family, but secretly so they won't have their feelings hurt."

"Well, if it is a secret keep it a secret, and don't spoil the surprise," said John the oldest.

The sun began to sink and the day was ending with a haze over the farmland.  The deacons went to their homes and the boys wandered across the fields to their dinners.

The boy's father folded his calloused hands, rested his elbows on the raw plank dinner table, and prayed. "We thank you, Oh, God, that you have been so generous to us. We thank you for this meal.  We thank you for these healthy children you have blessed us with.  We thank you that you put fruit on our trees, and grain in our fields.  Thank you for the gift of your Son who gave himself for us.  We pray you will remember those poor people in the world and favor them in their needs.  In Jesus name..." Together the family said, "Amen."

As potatoes and onion stew was ladled out Ma noticed that Billy was sullen. She asked, "Billy it is not like you to be so down faced, what is the matter?"

Looking up Billy said, "John said I shouldn't tell, but I heard a secret today and it is not a bad one, but a secret good thing."

"What is it?" prodded Susan.  "A surprise party?  Or is Mrs. Brown pregnant again?"

"Susan!" scolded Mama.

"It is not a real secret," said Matthew, Billy's brother.  "I heard it too; the deacons are taking up a special offering to help the poorest family in the church.

"Well," said Pa.  "Let's not talk about it.  We don't want to spoil the blessing of giving the gift."

"But Pa," Billy said, "you always pray and ask God to bless the poor people.  Shouldn't we do something too?  If we know about the offering shouldn't we help too?"

"You want to give to the offering, Billy?"

"If I can," he replied thoughtfully. "It's just I have nothing to give."

"You can help Mr. Taylor with his farm work. "Suggested Ma, "He is always looking for help. You can take what Mr. Taylor pays you and put it in the offering Sunday."

"I can help Mrs. Brown with her housework.  With all those kids I am sure she would like help," said Susie.

"I can do some odd jobs around the town for some extra money for the offering,"  Matthew added.

All agreed that each would do jobs on neighboring farms and in the town to earn money for the special offering.

The next day after studies and farm work the five children went out to search neighbors who may have work they could do for pay.

The excitement was thick in the kitchen that night as each reported their earnings and put a few coins on the tabletop.

"I am sure proud of you all," Pa said.

"We can't have all this money sitting on the dinner table,"  worried Ma,  "Some might fall off and go through one of the cracks in the floor it would become lost."  She opened a cabinet over the black cast iron stove, but it was empty.  "Maybe a can, or box, or sack."  She mused to herself, as she opened the hutch, but it only held utensils that couldn't be spared.

"Here," Pa leaned over and undid the rawhide lace on his boot.  He slipped it off and pulled his sock off of his foot.  "I can go without a sock for a good cause.  Use this."  He held up a gray patched sock. John took it and held it while Susan counted as the coins dropped in.  When she got to ten all the coins fell out a hole in the sock.

John put his hand in and three fingers poked out of three holes. "How about the other?"

"It's worse." Ma giggled.

"I know," said Matthew and disappeared out the door.  A moment later he returned.  He had an embarrassed look on his face and a jar with a lid in his hand.  "I found this by the road in town.  I was hiding it in the barn until spring, I was going to pick flowers and put them in it for Ma's birthday.

Coins in a Jar
A tale about thankfulness

"Well, you can still pick flowers in the spring, "Ma smiled, "but for now let's use it to hold this rich bounty."  The money jar was placed in the center of the table.

Each day after studies and farm work the kids would walk the dirt roads in their bare feet to neighboring farms to do whatever work they could, and each evening they brought home some coins to put in the jar on the kitchen table.

Susan and Little Sally put fruit from the family apple and the pear tree in a cart and walked to the edge of town and sold them to people passing by.

Excitement grew as the jar began to fill.  "I wonder who will get it and what will they do?" pondered Billy.

"I bet it is the Browns, they have so many kids." replied John.

Susan shook her head," I think it must be the Andrews or the Carters.

"Maybe it is someone who doesn't have food, or a bed to share like we do,"  said Sally.  "It must be sad.  Maybe they go to bed hungry every night."

"Or maybe they are thankful."  No one saw Pa come in.  "Maybe they count their blessings however small."

"What if they don't have any blessings?" Little Sally asked.

Pa sat down on the rough bench and scooped up Sally in his lap.  "Everyone has blessings, Sally. Maybe not so much as we do but they have blessings.  You must not set your heart on what you have or what you don't have, but set your heart on God, He is the one who gives these things to you.  What He gives you, or doesn't give you, is the best because He loves you."

The days continued and so did the efforts of the kids who diligently swept storefronts, cleaned barns, painted walls, cleaned stalls, and attics.  Each evening more coins were dropped into the jar.

One day after dinner the coins were so many that the lid would not screw on.  "I think it is time to take the jar to the pastor for the offering," said Pa.

"Can we do it tomorrow?" Little Sally exclaimed.  "I can't wait until Sunday service to give the offering."

The next day, each one took a turn carrying the jar as they walked the dusty road. The low sun gave a yellow light on the stone steps leading to the pastor's door.  John knocked.  "Come in." was the cheerful response.

"What do we have here?  It is the Hanson children.  Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes sir," said Sally.

Pastor held the door open wide.  "Come in and sit down."

"We have brought something for the special offering for the poor family." offered Billy as they entered.  "We did jobs on neighbor's farms and in town for it."

"How did you hear about the special offering?"

"Well. I know it was wrong to eavesdrop,"  Blurted out Billy.  "But I couldn't help it.  When I picked up the ball I overheard the grown-ups discussing it, and we all wanted to help."

"So, this is for the special offering for the poor family?"  The pastor looked at the jar full of coins as Billy held it out to him.

"Yes," said John.  "We worked at odd jobs and put the money in the jar.  We couldn't wait till Sunday, so we brought it just as soon as the jar was full."

"Thank You."  Pastor leaned back in his soft chair; his eyes staying on the jar.  "It is a good thing you came tonight. I have a meeting with the deacons about this offering and you have just brought the completion of the gift. Thank you."

"Oh. There is another thing." John said.  "Could we get the jar back it is the only one we have."

"Of course.  Could I get it to you later?  I do not have time to empty it now. Now run along and get home before it gets too dark.  It will be cold and I see none of you have a coat."

"Oh, we are used to the cold." boasted Billy.

The pastor walked them to the door and down the steps.  "I would give you a ride but my meeting with the deacons is in a few minutes."

"That's OK, Pastor,"  said John.  We'll walk through the fields anyway. It is shorter.

The purpose of the last few weeks was fulfilled and the kids walked slowly home.  None wanted to go in without coins for the jar.  "You know." mused Sally. "I sort of feel sad now that the money is done and the pastor has it.  Like an adventure is over."

"Don't feel that way," said Matthew.  "We did a good thing and God sees it."

As they neared their home in the falling twilight Matthew was the first to notice something strange.  Beside their house was a car.  "What is that?" Matthew asked.

"It is a car. I think it belongs to the pastor,"  said Susan.

"Oh. He must have brought the jar back."  Matthew said hopefully.

They heard men's voices, and Ma sobbing softly.

With wide eyes, the five children slowly crept through the door.  Inside the small room, the pastor and the deacons were standing around the table.  Dad sat on the bench with his hands flat on the table, he was staring at something in front of him.  Mom stood behind him with one hand on his shoulder the other wiping tears from her face.

On the table was the jar.  It was full of large bills.

Jar of money, Illustration for a story
about thankfulness.

(C) Adron Dozat

Bought With Blood

Many years ago when the empires had colonies and conquered other peoples an Englishman was traveling in Africa with many wagons and servants including an armed escort of redcoat solders.

One day, a native boy darted out of the bushes and came running toward him. Moments later a crowd of warriors and villagers burst out of the bushes and chased after him. The boy ran up to the white man to find protection, and jumped into his wagon. Soon the crowd from the village caught up with him, and their leader, a chief, tried hard to reach the boy.

"Let me get him." The Chief demanded. "He is my slave. He has cast a spell on me."

The Englishman tried to shield the poor native boy. "I will pay for his crime. I will give you gold. How much is his fine?"

The native chief, in rage, said, "I don't want money. I want blood. Our law says I must see blood to break the spell."  Then in a rage, he fitted an arrow to his bow and shot at the boy.

Quick as a flash, the Englishman threw his arm in front of the boy, and the sharp arrow struck his arm, piercing deep into it.  When the chief saw it he was afraid of what would happen because he had wounded an Englishman and the solders had readied their guns.

The Englishman pulled out the sharp arrow; the blood flowed freely, running down the length of his arm. He raised his blood-covered arm for the chief to see and said, "You did not want gold. You wanted blood. See, here it flows before your eyes. But now you have broken a law of the British Empire and have wounded an Englishman. You must pay."

"Oh." Said the chief, he dropped his bow and covered his head with his hands in grief. "My heart is sad, Englishman, I did not mean to hurt you."

"But you have," said the Englishman. "I have bought your slave with my own blood. You must give him to me, so there will be peace between my people and yours."

The chief was glad to get off so easily and quickly accepted the arrangement.

Then the poor boy came up to his new master, and kissed his feet, saying, "Gobi, whom you have bought with your own blood, will be your faithful slave forever."

"Oh, no," Said the Englishman, "We English do not have slaves. You are free!"

"Free?" asked the boy. "Then let Gobi serve his master, for you have bought me with your blood!"

Never since has an Englishman had so faithful or trustworthy a servant as Gobi was to the Englishman.


For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed...but with the precious blood of Christ,...1 Peter 1 :18-20

© Adron 6/7/13

The Unopened Gifts - a Parable About God's Blessings

This is a parable I used in a Sunday Morning Class when I was giving a talk about God's blessings. I hope you are challenged by it.

          During the age of empires there was a wealthy family of aristocrats who lived on an estate with hundreds of acres of land and a mansion. They were part of society where everyone was careful of social rules and behavior.  The son, Jason, was a bachelor and this was becoming an embarrassment to the family.  The mother, Lady Margaret, decided to do something about this.  She inquired of all the proper families who had a daughter of age and finding there were several who were not only beautiful but of many excellent good qualities, she arranged a tea to introduce these prospective brides to her son.

          The day of the tea arrived and the young ladies came one by one to the tea. Then Penelope entered. Jason saw her as she entered and was immediately enthralled with her beauty. She was gracious and talented, gifted in intellect and all social graces. She sat down to the harp and played such beautiful music that the birds seemed to stop singing to listen. When introduced to the young man she smiled such a dazzling smile that even the sun seemed to pale.  He was smitten, and hardly left her side during the tea.

         The next day Jason sent her flowers.  "She will see I am interested in her," He thought to himself. "She will send a polite note saying thank you, and how she liked the flowers,"  A day past and no thank you note came. After several days of waiting for a note or acknowledgement Jason worried that she either did not get the flowers or was not aware that it was he who sent them. He asked in the county village if any servants of her estate knew of the flowers. "Oh yes sir." A washer woman told him. "We at the estate saw the flowers they were truly beautiful, but such a shame." Why do you say that?" He inquired. "The flowers came with a lovely note, but she never put the flowers in a vase, they just lay on the entry table and withered up."  Strange, the young man thought.

          A few days later a party was hosted by Lady Margaret for a charity and Jason attended hoping to again see the beautiful young Miss Penelope.  The little chamber orchestra was at the center of the party and Penelope played wondrously on her harp. After the performance she moved through the crowd and to Jason she was as beautiful as ever and as polite and charming as any woman would ever be.  They talked together and she told him how she always wanted a certain sheep dog, a collie. "Oh, he thought. I'll send her a gift of a fine purebred collie." That very afternoon he went to a breeder of dogs and learned where could buy a pure beautiful Collie.  He bought it and had it sent to her by his servant with a tender note. Waiting a few days later the young man wondered why she did not respond to his gift with a letter of thanks, or a visit.  He rode his horse the long ride across the county to her estate and heard a whimper. Behind the stables was a pen and the dog was chained up cruelly and unfed. In only a few days the poor dog had sores and it's coat was matted and muddy. "Hey you." he called to a stable hand. "See this dog here why is it kept like that? Don't you know it is a purebred and a does Miss Penelope know it is here like this."  "Yes sir the poor dog arrived just the other day and Miss Penelope after reading the note given by the servant ordered it to be put here."  The young man rode away. Confused.

       One day the orchestra was to entertain the governor of the county at the county hall. The young man got wind of this engagement and made arrangements to attend hoping to catch her eye and maybe see the beginning of a hopeful romance.  He arrived early, and took a seat to await the performance. "Perhaps coming early may prove good fortune." He thought, "I may have a few words with her before as well."  He watched to see her entry. Musicians were milling about finding their seats.  Then he saw her, she entered the hall having just climbed the marble steps outside. As she crossed the threshold a loud crash from outside caused her to turn. She clasped her hands to to her cheeks and shuddered a gasp.  The room emptied of performers and guest as the crowd rushed to the portals and windows to see the cause.  On the landing thirteen steps below lay the harp and two fallen cartage workers.  The harp had slipped from their hands and tumbled down the marble steps to shatter on the concrete side walk.  Miss Penelope ran away sobbing.
       "I will win her affections this time." He thought. He went to London the very afternoon and purchased the most perfect harp. It was considered by all in the music world to have the perfect pitch and tone.  In craftsmanship it was beautiful piece of art to look at. Indeed the harp was commissioned for a member of a royal family.  "Send this harp to the young lady that lives at this address," he said as he handed the merchant the address and the full sum for the harp. "Be sure it arrives by dawn tomorrow. Include this note with the delivery."

       The harp was delivered.  He waited for a letter or a visit from the young lady.  As days passed he wondered, were his gifts and attentions waisted?  Does she have another gentleman admirer who she fancies more?  She was so well mannered it could not be that she was rude and uncouth. 

      He rode his horse to her estate. As he passed by he heard the harp being played.  Following the sound he came to the stables. "Strange," he thought, "perhaps for some amusement she is playing for guest at a lawn pic-nic."   He came to the stables and in a corner by the horse feed and hay was the harp. Some country children of the servants were plucking it's silver strings at random. He looked on this scene in dismay.

     Angry he demanded, "Do you children know this came to be here in the stable?" 

     "Oh yes sir. It was sent by a young admirer of the beautiful lady who lives in the estate." 

     "Why is it here?"

     "She met the delivery men when they bought it and told them to put it here that this was as good a place as any." 

     "No, it belongs in the house in the sitting room." He said.

     "That is not what she said."

     With a sigh the young man shook his head mounted his horse and rode away. She must have another young man, or her opinion of me is low. I'll not waste my time here any further.

Our Heavenly father has given us unimaginable gifts, blessings, promises, status and made us His own heirs. Yet we neglect and ignore them. Why do we think we can continue to treat His generosity with what amounts to contempt and that such treatment will not  grieve His Spirit?  Would any other continue to show such generosity to those who spurn him as we do our Gracious Father?


(C)Adron Dozat

The Big Boss and the Big Letter, Psalm 118:29.

This is a little story I wrote inspired by Psalm 118:29 to help little children understand thankfulness. I hope you are inspired by it.

There was once a very wealthy businessman. He was a good man at heart and very generous. He worked hard and became the biggest boss in his company. His hard work and good character gave him opportunities, and he quickly became the boss of many companies which employed many thousands of people and produced many goods and services which were helpful for everybody.
One day he was told about a city with no factories or shops, and the people were living lives with much poverty and no opportunities to make their lives better. He saw that he could do much good for this city and its people by building a factory.

So he began, but it became one of the most challenging projects he ever undertook. Every morning he would go to his office, and when he got to his desk, he would find out that another problem in building the factory came up. There were problems with workers, or laws, or officials, or suppliers, or community groups. The problems grew into a mountain of troubles in his mind. He got a helper, an intelligent man named Hector,  to help fix all of the issues.   So each morning, the Big Boss would go to his office and find out what the newest problem was, and then he would call Hector to come and help him fix the problem. Hector was so good at resolving issues with kindness and wisdom and respect for everybody that the factory was finally getting built. It went on for two years. Hector was always faithful and could be counted upon to solve all the problems. It was hard work that made both of them tired, and often Hector wondered if it was really worth all the trouble. He asked if the Big Boss really understood how hard the problems were to fix.

The day came at long last, and the factory was finished and ready to make the things the people needed and give the people new jobs. Everybody was excited. There was a big party and celebration, speeches, and people shaking hands while others took pictures. The boss and Hector both cut the golden ribbon to open the factory's door, and the crowd cheered.  After that, they had a factory tour, and the boss saw how much work Hector really did. After the celebration, everybody went home looking forward to the next day when they would start their jobs and open the stores.

The Big Boss went home, however, and was troubled in his mind. He went to the dining room and sat at this big shiny dining table, and began to write.  After a long time, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it on the ground, saying, "That will never do!"  He picked up his pen and began again on new paper but before long did the same, tossing the paper on the floor with the exclamation, "No, that is not good enough." Again and again, he struggled with words on the form, and, again and again, he tossed it on the floor.

By and by, the daughter of the Big Boss came to the door and peeking around the door. She watched her dad do this strange thing of writing and crumpling papers and starting again. "Daddy, what are you doing?" Little Amy asked.

"Well, my helper, Hector, really worked hard on the factory and shops, and it is important that he know that I know how hard he worked. I want him to know that I value his time, and I value his sacrifices. I want him to know that I appreciate all he did. I want to tell him I am grateful. I want to tell him that I am indebted to him. I am trying to write him a letter to say all these very important things, but I feel I am not getting the words right."

Oh, that is easy Daddy, All you have to do is write two words."

"Amy, what I am trying to say is so very important. How could it all be said in only two words?"

"Daddy, the two most important words are- Thank You."

The Big Boss realized she was right. All the essential things of gratitude, appreciation, sacrifice, indebtedness, and so much more are all in those two little words.  The Big Boss wrote the letter simply saying, "Thank You." He sent it to Hector. Hector was deeply touched and felt it was a letter more from a friend than from a boss. He put the letter in a frame and hung it on the wall above all the other awards and achievements from his career.

Because of the words "Thank You," Hector became close friends of the Big Boss, and together they did many good things for people all over. The words "Thank You" say so many things we must never forget to use them.

(C)Adron Dozat

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