sábado, 14 de julio de 2012





    Let me tell you a little something that happened. I, I'm a missionary, as you know, do evangelistic, missionary work, about seven times overseas, around the world. Here, not long ago, in the city of Rome, Rome is a great city for art. And they had a school of art there, and several of our American young folks go over there every year, to take a year-or-two's training in art, to learn to paint pictures. There was a group of young Americans came over here, a few years ago, as the story was told me. And when they get over there, they just go hog-wild. When they're in Rome, they do as Rome does: get out and drink, and strip themselves, and everything else, and carry on, both boys and girls.

And there was a certain school. And in this school, this group of young Americans come over. And every one of them, almost, did the same thing. But one certain little girl, she wouldn't tolerate it, at all. She stayed in. At nighttime, she read while they was all out drinking. Daytime, she worked, study. Well, she was the laughingstock of the whole school. And she kept herself like a lady, conducted herself like a lady. Although there were young Roman boys and everything around, trying to get her to go out, she refused it. No, sir. She stayed right with her lessons, learning to draw, and to paint, rather. And she stayed with it.

Finally, an old custodian at the place kept watching her, seeing she was so much different, although he was a Roman Catholic, kept watching her, how she conducted herself. One evening, the young girl, in the park where the studio was, why, or the place where they had the school, she walked out upon the campus, and went up towards the top of the hill, and the sun was setting. And she was standing up there, with her pretty, clean face, and her hair hanging down, looking across that way towards the setting of the sun.

The old custodian was raking down there in the yard. He kept watching the girl, as he raked. Something just kept telling him, "Go, talk to her." So he laid his rake down, took off his old slouch hat, walked up to where the young lady was. Cleared up his throat. She turned around. He said, "Pardon me, miss."
She said, "Yes, sir. Certainly."

And he noticed she had been crying. All the rest was out on a big spree for the night. He said, "Madam, I hope that you understand me in the right way, that I am just going to speak to you." Said, "You've been here, most for over two years now. And I've noticed the group that you come with, continually they're out on parties, and coming in all times the night, drunk, and clothes half off of them, and everything. But I noticed that you don't attend such parties." And said, "I notice that, seemingly, that you're always looking across the sea. Of an evening, you walk up here, and stand here each evening, and watch the sun go down." And said, "What, what causes that?" Said, "I'm an old man. And I--I am curious of knowing what causes this difference between you and the others."

She said, "Yes, sir." She said, "Sir, I'm looking towards home when the sun is setting." She said, "Across, beyond that sun yonder is my homeland." And she said, "In that land there is a certain state. And in that certain state there's a certain city. And in that certain city is a certain house. And in that house is a certain boy." Said, "He, too, is an artist. When I left, to come over here, I pledged my love to him. We're engaged to one another."

And she said, "No matter what any of the rest of them does, that has nothing to do with me." She said, "I promised to live true and right." And she said, "I'm longing for the day that when I feel myself on the top of the wings of that big plane that'll take me across the sea and set me down at the airport where he'll meet me. He's building a home, and we'll live together in that land."

And said, "That's the reason I act the way I do. I'm true to the promise that I made a boy. And he's true to the promise that he makes me." Said, "I hear from him, now and then, and I write to him, and," said, "corresponding with one another. We're still holding our vows, waiting for the day we meet."

Oh, how that would do for a real Christian, to get away from the things of the world. And someday, you talk about coming into the port, on the wings of a Dove! He's coming for a Bride, one that don't fool with the world or the things of the world. She is washed in the Blood of the Lamb. She's pledged Her love to Him only. The love of the world is gone and dead to Her. "The marriage of the Lamb has come, and His Bride has made Herself ready."
Let's think of it while we bow our heads just a moment.

Some day, as I look towards the setting of the sun, I too, thirty-one years ago, made a pledge to One that I loved, all my love to Him. I've always tried to hold up for Him and His Word, wherever I go. I know there's many others setting in here, like that, waiting for the day that when the old ship of Zion shall come into the port, pick up our souls and take us in the Presence of Him Who we love and has pledged our love to.

There may be some in here tonight, who has never made that pledge. There may be some that's made it and broke it. If you're in that condition tonight, friend, why don't you just come back tonight and renew your pledge? If you haven't, make it. Why don't you come and make it tonight? Say, "Lord Jesus, I love You."

Remember, if you have already made your pledge, and still mingling with the things of the world, Jesus will not have a bride like that. He will not have one that's adulterous. All your love must be to Him. And if you love the things of the world, and the fashions of this world, better than you love God, then you have not made yourself ready.

Extracted from the Message:

62-0121E THE MARRIAGE OF THE LAMB  (217-228)

Preached by our Brother:

William Marrion Branham.