Thanksgiving Sermon Illustrations

Thanksgiving Sermon Illustrations

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Everything Not Lost

A man stood in the street and gazed at his bomb-wrecked home. Then he said to his wife: "This morning someone came into our dugout and told me that we had lost everything. It's a lie. Thank God, I've still got health and strength to carry on with my job. I still have you, my dear, and the children. Thank God, you're all safe. Hitler hasn't smashed my faith in the love and wisdom of God, or my faith in the ultimate victory of right. I still have hope for the future. I can still call my soul my own. I am still alive and ready for action again. So I reckon that you and I ought to thank God that we have saved far more than we have lost. Houses and buildings may be wrecked and ruined, but you and I can still hold on to things which can never be shaken or destroyed."—Church Standard.

His Last Words

Some years ago, in Germany, a young man lay upon the operating table of hospital. A skilled surgeon stood near, a group of students round about. Presently, bending over the patient, the surgeon said: "My friend, if you wish to say anything, you now have the opportunity, but I must warn you that your words will be the last words that you will ever utter. (He had cancer of the tongue.) Think well, therefore, what you wish to say." You can readily imagine that such a statement at such a time would give pause to anyone. The young man therefore waited, apparently lost in deep thought. A deep solemnity settled over the faces of the onlookers. What words would he choose for such an occasion? The students bent eagerly forward. Some time passed, and then the lips at last parted, and at the sound of his voice you could have seen tears swim in the eyes of those present: "Thank God, Jesus Christ!"—Evangelical Visitor.

Be Thankful

One of the weekly duties of a young American girl in India was to visit a certain group of high - caste Hindu women—all younger than herself, mere girls, most of them, though already wives. She taught them the Life of Christ by telling them a new chapter in it each week, as they sat about their apartment, idly busy over their embroidery frames. She had come at last to the account of His death on the Cross, and was quietly relating the incidents of those six hours, when she caught the sound of sobbing — in the room, she thought. She paused, looked keenly about, saw nothing unusual, concluded the sound must have come in through the high lattice from the women's courtyard, and went on with her reading. Presently the sobs came again, unmistakably from a young girl whose back was almost turned toward the American girl. Quickly she knelt by her side, asking gently, "What is the trouble? Are you ill? In pain? What can I do to help you?" Through her raining tears the Hindu heathen girl answered, with sobs, "Oh, I cannot bear it—not another word! He suffered so—and you said it was for me! Oh, I cannot bear it—I love Him so!" Said the American girl when she told it afterward, "And I never knew till that minute how little I had loved my Saviour—I who had never shed a tear over His suffering for me."

Have you ever thanked Jesus for dying for you?—Happy Hour.

A well-known Christian in a small town in Scotland was afflicted with nasal catarrh. Dr. Adams of Hamilton, Lanarkshire, a nose, throat and ear specialist, operated on him, and the operation gave him the relief he wanted. He was so helped that he sat down, after he had paid the doctor's fee, and wrote a letter of thanks. In a day or two he received a reply from the surgeon saying he was going to keep the letter among his prized papers, as it was the first letter of thanks he had ever received.

(Ps. 100. 4; Col. 2. 7; 1 Tim. 4. 4)

A Christian in great perplexity prayed but found no relief in prayer. Looking up from where he knelt, his eye alighted on a card, 'Try Thanksgiving!' He did, and the Lord gave him peace and removed his cares.

(Phil. 4. 6; 1 Tim. 2. 1)

Then will I praise my God with song,
To Him my thanks shall rise,
And this shall please Jehovah more
Than offered sacrifice.—Selected

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