An Indian widow undertook a long trip with her two sons to the shores of the Ganges, in the province of Varanasi. After the three had knelt down to pray to the holy river, the widow hugged her beloved firstborn, kissed him lovingly and threw him in a turbulent area, as a way of sacrifice. A short time later, some Indians asked her, “How come you didn’t offer your sick, younger son?”
She replied, “My god requires the best I have; isn’t that true?”
Truly this pagan widow puts us to shame when we offer to our God our leftovers, rather than our best. Believing that she was offering a service to her god, this atheist widow sacrificed her beloved firstborn by throwing him in the river. Is it too hard for us to offer our best time for prayer to our God and to offer Him our best feelings?
You, the only Son of God, have descended to my world,
While I was still an enemy.
You carried the cross of my shame,
While I was still an ingrate sinner.
For my sake You conquered the darkness of the grave and death,
And descended into the flames of Hades to carry me in Your arms.
What then can I do for You, You who are full of love?
I Lost Everything
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