The Beggar and the Bread

A beggar came and sat before me. “I want bread,” he said.

“How wise you are,” I assured him. “Bread is what you need. And you have come to the right bakery.” So I pulled my cookbook down from my shelf and began to tell him all I knew about bread.

I spoke of flour and wheat, of grain and barley. My knowledge impressed even me as I cited the measurements and recipe. When I looked up, I was surprised to see he wasn’t smiling. “I just want bread,” he said.

“How wise you are.” I applauded his choice. “Follow me, and I’ll show you our bakery.” Down the hallowed halls, I guided him, pausing to point out the rooms where the dough is prepared and the ovens where the bread is baked.

“No one has such facilities. We have bread for every need. But here is the best part,” I proclaimed as I pushed open two swinging doors. “This is our room of inspiration.” I knew he was moved as we stepped into the auditorium full of stained-glass windows.

The beggar didn’t speak. I understood his silence. With my arm around his shoulder, I whispered, “It overwhelms me as well.” I then leaped to the podium and struck my favorite pose behind the lectern. “People come from miles to hear me speak. Once a week my workers gather, and I read to them the recipe from the cookbook of life.”

By now the beggar had taken a seat on the front row. I knew what he wanted. “Would you like to hear me?”

“No,” he said, “but I would like some bread.”

“How wise you are,” I replied. And I led him to the front door of the bakery. 
“What I have to say next is very important,” I told him as we stood outside. “Up and down this street you will find many bakeries. But take heed; they don’t serve the true bread. I know of one who adds two spoons of salt rather than one. I know of another whose oven is three degrees too hot. They may call it bread,” I warned, “but it’s not according to the book.”

The beggar turned and began walking away. “Don’t you want bread?” I asked him.

He stopped, looked back at me, and shrugged, “I guess I lost my appetite.”

I shook my head and returned to my office. “What a shame,” I said to myself. “The world just isn’t hungry for true bread anymore.”

I don’t know what is more incredible: that God packages the bread of life in the wrapper of a country carpenter or that he gives us the keys to the delivery truck. Both moves seem pretty risky. The carpenter did his part, however. And who knows -- we may just learn to do ours.

From A Gentle Thunder
Copyright 2001, Max Lucado

The Star Thrower

Early one morning, at the breaking of dawn, a young tourist took a walk by the beach that was near to his hotel. As he walked, he noticed that there was a human figure, moving like a dancer, far down the beach. He smiled to himself wondering who would dance at this time of the day. 

As he got closer, he realised that it was an elderly gentleman and he wasn't dancing. The elderly man was doing something far weirder than dancing - he was picking up something from the beach and throwing it far into the ocean.

As the tourist got closer, he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"

The elderly man paused, looked up and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

The tourist corrected himself, "I guess I should have asked, ‘Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?’"

The man pointed to the waking sky and said, "The sun is coming up fast and the tide is going out. And if I don't throw them back into the ocean, they'll die."

"But Sir, don't you realise that there are miles and miles of beach with countless stranded starfish. You can't possibly make a difference!"

The elderly man did not stop but picked up another starfish, threw it past the breaking waves, and said, "It made a difference for that one!"

Suddenly, it dawned on the young tourist that for that moment, while on the beach, he could make a difference for some starfish. With strong arms, the young man was able to gather and throw more starfish into the ocean. For the few days the young tourist was staying at the hotel, every early morning, he joined the elderly gentleman in throwing back starfish. He felt good that he could make a difference.

And that is our challenge today. There are many souls that need to know Jesus Christ as their Saviour. The number of people with such need is staggering. The only danger for us is when we throw up our hands and say that we cannot make a difference in helping these people into the Kingdom of God. Our only assignment is to find our starfish and throw them wisely back into the ocean of God’s love and forgiveness.

Yes, you can make a difference! Be a Star-thrower and Christ-witness for the Kingdom of God.



Adapted from Loren Eiseley’s book, ‘The Star Thrower’.

The BEST Method for Sharing the Gospel

The BEST Method for Sharing the Gospel


One day a lady criticized D.L. Moody for his methods of evangelism in attempting to win people to the Lord.

Moody's reply was: “I agree with you. I don’t like the way I do it either. Tell me, how do you do it?” 

The lady replied, “I don’t do it.”

Moody retorted, “Then I like my way of doing it better than your way of not doing it.”

A lame method is better than no method at all when explaining the Gospel.

Sower of Good Seeds

The sower sows the word. Mark 4: 14

God gives us many opportunities to be sowers of good seeds. 

Whatever good seeds that we sow will create a fresh season for another person. 

When we sow prayers, someone's situation is changed. 

When we sow faith, someone is healed. 

When we sow kindness, someone's life is transformed. 

When we sow finance, someone's bondage is broken. 

When we sow the Gospel, someone is saved. 

Be a sower of good seeds and watch the harvest multiplies in God's kingdom.

Rev Albert Kang