Take the Challenge: Bring Your Family To Christ

Precious soul,

The Lord  delights in you!

How greatly is His love expressed

in giving to us our children,

loaned to us from God Himself

to stay with us for a while.

So precious are they to God.

In a short while, we in turn

must give them back to Him.

What  joy we can leave with them,

the legacy that is found in Jesus Christ.

We, as mothers have an unique place

in our children's lives.

With so many influences of the outside world

we are to be like that mother, Rizph

found in 2 Samuel 21:8-14

who expresses deep love for her sons.

Here, this woman of courage

safeguards the bodies of her children

as they hang on a tree in disgrace.

She couldn't have prevented their hangings,

but she protected their bodies.

Her love speaking volumes as she

watches over her family after their death.

Day in and day out,

she sits on a rock next to them.

With a stick in one hand, and a stone in another

she chases the vultures away by day,

and the beast of the field by night

that encircle to destroy their bodies.

    She wasn't concerned about her appearance

or what others might think.

Instead, her dirty tear stained  face is set with determination

as she keeps vigil watch over them

so that their bodies will remain intact.

Untouched and unharmed by the enemy.

The heat of the sun dries her face.

She sits there diligently.

One by one, the cripple hyenas walk away,

wounded by her love for her family.

There was no one to help her.

She did it all alone.

She fought off the predators sacrificially,

and her diligence was honored

by giving her sons an honorable burial.

Dear soul,

if this precious mother is so concerned

about  guarding the bodies of her loved ones,

how much more are we to be concerned about

He who is able to destroy both body

and soul in Hell.

Tonight there's an ongoing prayer meeting in Hell.

Souls, from beneath cry out for someone

to tell their loved ones 

lest they also come to this place of torment.

They call out to us from beneath.

If  we could only hear the agony of their soul

we would run to our children,

and try to lead their souls to Christ!

May you weep for them now!

For what good will your tears do at the judgement

when you see your children condemned to the Lake of Fire?

Don't let the vultures have your children!

Be as that mother sitting on the rock

and say with conviction

"You can't have my children!"

as you bear the thought of losing them forever.

Satan is a vulture.

Daily, he encircles your children

waiting to claim them as his.

In a place called Hell.

Have you wept for their souls?

Have you been wounded before God

and cried out on their behalf,

for the saving of their souls?

Break my heart O God!

Weep for their souls while they are alive!

Tonight I challenge you

to be a Rizpah.

Look into the eyes of your children and

make an investment in their lives by

guarding their souls and leading them to Christ.

The outcome is not yours but God's.

If you warned them

you fulfilled your responsibility.

Their blood won't be dripping on your hands.

God is concerned about your family, dear soul.

He is not willing that any should perish and

has made every provision necessary

to have their sins forgiven

through the shed blood of His Son.

Tonight, will you honor your children

and give them an honorable burial when the time comes?

Don't let the sun set on this night

without attempting to lead your child (or children) to Christ.

If they will put their faith in Him

and should the angels ccme to carry them Home,

they will be escorted into the presence of Jesus.

Returned to the One who loaned  them to us.

"For God so loved the world,

that He gave His only begotten Son,

that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish,

but have everlasting life."( John 3:16)

In Jesus's  name, Amen."

If you put your faith in Christ tonight,

welcome to the family of God!

You may want to share this letter with your family,

as you plead with them to come to Christ.

Dear mom,

"I'm writing to you from the most horrible place

that I have ever seen or heard.

More horrible than you could ever imagine.

It is black here.

So dark I cannot see all the people

I am comstantly bumping into.

I only know they're people like myself

by the blood curdling screams that I hear.

My voice is gone from my own screaming,

as I arrive in pain and suffering.

I cannot even cry for help anymore

and it's no use anyway.

There's no one here

that has any compassion at all for my plight.

The pain and suffering from this place

is absolutely unbearable.

It so consumes my every thought.

I would not know

if there was any other sensation to come upon me.

The pain is so severe, it never stops. Day or night.

The turning of days does not appear because of the darkness.

What may be nothing more than minutes

or even seconds seems like many endless years.

The thought of this suffering continuing without end

is more than I can bear.

My mind is spinning more and more

with each passing moment, dear Mother. 

I feel like a madman.

I cannot think clearly under this load of confusion.

I fear I'm losing my mind.

Mom, the fear is just as bad as the pain.

Maybe even worse.

I cannot see how my predicament could be any worse than it is

but I have a constant fear that it might be so at any moment.

My mouth is parched

and will only become more so.

It is so dry that my tongue clings to the roof of my mouth.

I remember that old preacher in that church saying

what Jesus Christ endured on that old rugged cross.

There's no relief, Mom.

Not so much as a single drop of water to cool my tongue.

To add even more misery to this place of torment,

I know that I deserve to be here.

I'm being punished justly for my deeds.

The punishment, the pain and the suffering

is no worse than I justly deserve,

but admitting that now will never ease the anguish

that burns eternally from my wretched soul.

I hate myself for committing the sins to earn such a horrible fate.

I hate the devil that deceived me so that I would end up in this place.

As much as I know it an unspeakable wickedness to think such a thing,

I hate the very God that sent His own Son to die for me,

that I may not come to this place of torment.

I could never blame the Christ of Calvary

that suffered, bled, and died for me.

I hate Him anyway.

I cannot even control my feelings

when I know they're wicked, wretched and vile.

I am more wicked and vile now

than I ever was in my earthly existence.

Oh Mother, if only I had listened.

Any earthly torment would be better than this.

To die a slow agonizing death from cancer,

to jump out off the 40th floor of a burning building,

like those who died on September 11th,

but to choose those over my present fate, I have no power.

I do not have that choice.

I now understand that this torment and suffering

is what Jesus bore for me.

I believe He died to pay for my sins,

but His suffering was not eternal.

In 3 days He arose in victory over the grave.

Oh, I so do believe,

but alas it is too late.

As the old invitation song states,

I remember hearing so many times,

“You came, but you came one day too late.”

We are all believers in this terrible place,

but our faith amounts to nothing.

It’s too late. The door is shut.

The tree has fallen,

and here it shall lay in Hell forever lost.

No hope, no comfort,

no peace, no joy.

There will never be any end to my suffering.

I remember that old preacher

as he would read from the book of Revelations.

"...And the smoke of their torment ascended up forever and ever."

They had no rest day or night,

those who worshipped the beast in his image.”

There is no peace,

no peace saith my God to the wicked.

For the wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest.

Whose waters cast mire and dirt,

there's no peace to the wicked.

The worst thing about this place, Mom,

are my memories.

I remember the church services, the invitations,

I thought they were so corny, so stupid and useless.

I used to sit in the back and hide my face

while I laughed at that old country preacher.

I thought he was a fool.

I see things differant now Mom.

Now that I've  had a change of heart,

it matters not at this point.

I have lived like a fool.

Dear soul,

I’m talking to someone tonight.

I don’t know who you are

but this boy here says I lived like a fool.

I pretended like a fool.

I played church like a fool.

I died like a fool God,

and now I have to suffer the anguish of a fool forever.

All by myself.

Just to stroll through a green meadow,

smell the beautiful flowers,

stopping to take in the fragrance of their sweet perfume.

There’s no flowers in Hell, mom.

I long to see one of those little innocent babies

that just used to aggravate me,

now I’d love to see their cherub -like faces,

but there’s no babies in Hell, Mom.

Mom, there’s no Bibles in Hell,

there’s no Bibles in Hell, mama.

The only scriptures inside these charred walls

are those that ring in my ears hour after hour,

and moment after miserable moment

that I remember being preached

as that old preacher hammered the pulpit,

and preached under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost.

Oh, Mom, those verses offer no comfort at all.

They only serve to remind me of what a fool I have been.

Mom, if it wasn’t for the futility of them all,

that you might rejoice to know

that there is a never ending prayer meeting here in Hell.

There’s no Holy Spirit to intercede on our behalf.

The prayers are just empty and dead.

They amount to nothing more than cries for mercy

that we all know will never be answered.

Please warn my brothers mom.

I was the oldest. I thought I had to be tough.

Please tell them there’s no tough guys in Hell, mama.

Nobody’s cool in Hell.

As terrible as this place is, mom,

I see it’s my final destination.

Satan laughs at us all here,

and his multitudes join us continually in his misery.

We’re constantly reminded that one day in the future,

we’ll all be summoned up one by one

to stand face to face to the God

that we have offended by our unholiness,

by our wickedness,

by our thoughts and deeds, and attitude.

And as we stand before Him,

we’ll be judged by our own wicked works.

By those things written in the books,

and then thrown into the lake of fire.

Saying “Amen” to our own condemnation,

just before we’re cast into the lake of fire.

We will have to look on the face of Him

who willingly suffered the torments of Hell,

that we might be delivered from them

by the Lamb of God

whom came to take away the sin of the world.

As we stand there in His holy presence

to hear the pronouncement of our own damnation,

You’ll be there mother, to see it all.

Please forgive me for hanging my head in shame,

as I know that I will not be able to bear to look upon your face.

You will already be conformed into the image of the Savior,

and I know it will be more than I can stand.

I’d love to leave this place,

enjoying you and so many others

I have known on earth.

But I know that will never be possible,

since I know I can never escape the punishments of Hell

that I rightly deserve.

I say this with tears,

with a sorrow and deep despair

that can never be completely described.

I never want to see any of you again.

Please don’t ever join me here in eternal anguish."

Your son,
Condemned and lost forever.

If you have decided to trust Jesus Christ as your Savior

after reading this invitation, please let us know.

(Your first names are sufficient.)