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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcDQns9fyp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:54:33.567-08:00</updated><category term="Baptism" /><category term="Fellowship" /><category term="Arrogance" /><category term="Pastor" /><category term="Hope" /><category term="Vision" /><category term="Relationdhip" /><category term="Animals" /><category term="Priority" /><category term="Forgiveness" /><category term="Article" /><category term="Discipline" /><category term="Actions" /><category term="Ability" /><category term="Holy Spirit" /><category term="Race" /><category term="Change" /><category term="Coincidence" /><category term="Fear" /><category term="Conversion" /><category term="united" /><category term="Patience" /><category term="Admonition" /><category term="Blessing" /><category term="Witnessing" /><category term="Eternity" /><category term="Omnipresent" /><category term="Angels" /><category term="worship" /><category term="Judging" /><category term="Bible" /><category term="Man" /><category term="Humor" /><category term="Faith" /><category term="Consumerism" /><category term="Choice" /><category term="Thankfulness" /><category term="Grace" /><category term="Resurrection" /><category term="Wisdom" /><category term="Age" /><category term="Duty" /><category term="Nature" /><category term="Service" /><category term="Glorfy" /><category term="Alcoholism" /><category term="Accusation" /><category term="Carrying" /><category term="Honesty" /><category term="Abundant" /><category term="Decisions" /><category term="Ministry" /><category term="God" /><category term="worldliness" /><category term="Accomplish" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="Guilt" /><category term="Jesus The Way" /><category term="Blacksliding" /><category term="Atonement" /><category term="Stewardship" /><category term="Cult" /><category term="Obidience" /><category term="Praise" /><category term="Inspiration" /><category term="Hypocrisy" /><category term="Accountability" /><category term="Prayer" /><category term="Gratitude" /><category term="Complaining" /><category term="Growth" /><category term="Life" /><category term="Commitmen" /><category term="Sovereignty of God" /><category term="Offence" /><category term="Bible Study" /><category term="Church" /><category term="Justice" /><category term="Adultary" /><category term="sacrifice" /><category term="Love" /><category term="Success" /><category term="Peace" /><category term="Trial" /><category term="Easter" /><category term="Humility" /><category term="Abide" /><category term="Struggles" /><category term="Gift" /><category term="Hospitality" /><category term="Gambling" /><category term="God's Will" /><category term="Avarice" /><category term="Disappointed" /><category term="Revenge" /><category term="Discernment" /><category term="Marriage" /><category term="Anger" /><category term="Confession" /><category term="Become a Christian" /><category term="Evil" /><category term="Reward" /><category term="God Guidance" /><category term="Giving. Tithing" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Friendship" /><category term="Acceptance" /><category term="Aspiration" /><category term="Protection" /><category term="Thanksgiving" /><category term="Loneliness" /><category term="Calling" /><category term="Appreciation" /><category term="Evangelism" /><category term="Rebirth" /><category term="Attitude" /><category term="Tithing" /><category term="Parents" /><category term="Doctrine" /><category term="Pride" /><category term="unbelief" /><category term="Achievement" /><category term="Joy" /><category term="Leadership" /><category term="Love of God" /><category term="Generosity" /><category term="Fathers" /><category term="Devotion" /><category term="Mother" /><category term="Affliction" /><category term="Self Esteem" /><category term="Money" /><category term="Assurance" /><category term="Risk" /><category term="Adversity" /><category term="Will" /><category term="Abortion" /><category term="Religion" /><category term="Abandon" /><category term="Encouragement" /><category term="Sin" /><category term="Heaven" /><category term="Testimony" /><category term="Dealing With Sin" /><category term="Maturity" /><category term="knowledge" /><category term="Difficulty" /><category term="Grief" /><category term="Second Coming" /><category term="Admiration" /><category term="Kindness" /><category term="Temptation" /><category term="Belief" /><category term="Repentance" /><category term="Compassion" /><category term="Salvation" /><category term="Happiness" /><category term="Homor" /><category term="Sabbath" /><category term="Advice" /><category term="Trusting God" /><category term="Judgment" /><category term="Giving" /><category term="Ambition" /><category term="criticism" /><category term="Atheism" /><category term="Christ" /><category term="Recognition" /><category term="Kingdom" /><category term="Example" /><category term="Backsliding" /><category term="Children" /><category term="Providence" /><category term="Conflict" /><category term="Lifestyle" /><category term="Christianity" /><category term="Time" /><category term="Cross" /><category term="One Liners" /><category term="Dreams" /><category term="Death" /><category term="Character" /><title>Sermon Illustration</title><subtitle type="html">Bible study, Christian sermon, Free sermon illustration, Sermon outlines, Preaching, Sermon Illustration story</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1414</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/SermonIllustration" /><feedburner:info uri="sermonillustration" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4CQn84eSp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-6448612066236611166</id><published>2011-09-05T02:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:12:43.131-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:12:43.131-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="criticism" /><title>Quick to Criticize</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6448612066236611166?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6448612066236611166?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/d6hp7xSK6cw/quick-to-criticize.html" title="Quick to Criticize" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kaeyyEiwbpJaD2WOb8YOQqqPkZs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kaeyyEiwbpJaD2WOb8YOQqqPkZs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kaeyyEiwbpJaD2WOb8YOQqqPkZs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kaeyyEiwbpJaD2WOb8YOQqqPkZs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A man came up to Moody once and criticized him for the way he went about winning souls. Moody listened courteously and then asked, “How would you do it?” The man, taken aback, mumbled that he didn’t do it. “Well,” said Moody, “I prefer the way I do it to the way you don’t do it.”&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/d6hp7xSK6cw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/quick-to-criticize.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8DRnw9cCp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-4583222415956040893</id><published>2011-09-05T02:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:11:17.268-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:11:17.268-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Complaining" /><title>The Chronic Complainer</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4583222415956040893?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4583222415956040893?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/wL7p6uuTIno/chronic-complainer.html" title="The Chronic Complainer" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5vPWvae0_byoYSCuCeAVioaAD_s/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5vPWvae0_byoYSCuCeAVioaAD_s/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5vPWvae0_byoYSCuCeAVioaAD_s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5vPWvae0_byoYSCuCeAVioaAD_s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A certain father was a chronic growler. He was sitting with his family in the presence of a guest in the parlor one day when the question of food came up. One of the children, a little girl, was telling the guest very cleverly what food each member of the family liked best. Finally it came to the father’s turn to be described. “And what do I like, Nancy?” he asked laughingly. “You,” said the &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/wL7p6uuTIno" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/chronic-complainer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8GQ3Yzfyp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-6724826838403713580</id><published>2011-09-05T02:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:10:22.887-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:10:22.887-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Complaining" /><title>Submit, Do Not Grumble</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6724826838403713580?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6724826838403713580?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/llRHt-x1FuI/submit-do-not-grumble.html" title="Submit, Do Not Grumble" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yMaybfbUwwXtq_A3vLN7P7EhAZw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yMaybfbUwwXtq_A3vLN7P7EhAZw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yMaybfbUwwXtq_A3vLN7P7EhAZw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yMaybfbUwwXtq_A3vLN7P7EhAZw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Unfortunately, even among Christians there are those who are chronic grumblers. A woman of this type grumbled at everything and everybody. But at last the preacher thought he had found something about which she could make no complaint—the lady’s crop of potatoes was certainly the finest for miles around. “Ah, for once you must be pleased,” he said with a beaming smile as he met her in the village&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/llRHt-x1FuI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/submit-do-not-grumble.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAMRHs6fyp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-7806820675391977733</id><published>2011-09-05T02:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:09:45.517-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:09:45.517-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Complaining" /><title>Stop Complaining</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/7806820675391977733?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/7806820675391977733?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/vD-yBI6Dv50/stop-complaining.html" title="Stop Complaining" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8hpx2mhHMxryISSK41ymT4XXjT4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8hpx2mhHMxryISSK41ymT4XXjT4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8hpx2mhHMxryISSK41ymT4XXjT4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8hpx2mhHMxryISSK41ymT4XXjT4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Robert Hall, the great Baptist preacher, used to be subject to occasions of great physical pain, in the course of which he would roll on the ground in sheer agony. When the pain was over, the first words he used to say were, “I hope I didn’t complain.” How much more effective our witness for Christ would be if we didn’t complain so much about our trials of faith.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/vD-yBI6Dv50" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/stop-complaining.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAFSHY5cCp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-6862161599661260198</id><published>2011-09-05T02:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:08:39.828-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:08:39.828-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Complaining" /><title>He Grows Men, Not Peaches</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6862161599661260198?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6862161599661260198?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/nyh3JgAQ9OQ/he-grows-men-not-peaches.html" title="He Grows Men, Not Peaches" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vCL3SWQP_lmGJk_Sot-oh7Nv_no/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vCL3SWQP_lmGJk_Sot-oh7Nv_no/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vCL3SWQP_lmGJk_Sot-oh7Nv_no/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vCL3SWQP_lmGJk_Sot-oh7Nv_no/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A young man who was trying to establish himself as a peach grower had worked hard and invested all his money in a peach orchard. It blossomed wonderfully but then came a killing frost. He didn’t go to church the next Sunday, nor the next, nor the next. His minister went to see him to discover the reason. The young fellow exclaimed, “I’m not coming any more. Do you think I can worship a God who &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/nyh3JgAQ9OQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/he-grows-men-not-peaches.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIFR3o9eip7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-4683991693667279167</id><published>2011-09-05T02:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:05:16.462-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:05:16.462-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Complaining" /><title>Which Did God Believe?</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4683991693667279167?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4683991693667279167?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/hk4hGbVbDfk/which-did-god-believe.html" title="Which Did God Believe?" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phx-TfCmCDy9dChO29Cnd24PcAU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phx-TfCmCDy9dChO29Cnd24PcAU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phx-TfCmCDy9dChO29Cnd24PcAU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phx-TfCmCDy9dChO29Cnd24PcAU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A large family sat around the table for breakfast one morning. As the custom was, the father returned thanks, blessing God for the food. Immediately afterward, however, as was his bad habit, he began to grumble about hard times, the poor quality of the food he was forced to eat, the way it was cooked, and much more. His little daughter interrupted him saying, “Father, do you suppose God heard &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/hk4hGbVbDfk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/which-did-god-believe.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMMQnc-cSp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-7816465838794177804</id><published>2011-09-05T02:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:04:43.959-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:04:43.959-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Warmth of Sympathy</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/7816465838794177804?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/7816465838794177804?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/Z7OoV8_Dc8Y/warmth-of-sympathy.html" title="Warmth of Sympathy" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzrFZbmLYJLROV-5vyytar739Bo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzrFZbmLYJLROV-5vyytar739Bo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzrFZbmLYJLROV-5vyytar739Bo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzrFZbmLYJLROV-5vyytar739Bo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Henry Ward Beecher, while walking down a street, passed a newsboy shivering in the cold. Being moved with compassion toward him, the great preacher bought up all his newspapers, and when he handed over the money to him, he said, “Surely you are cold?” “I was,” replied the lad with a gulp, “till you passed, sir.”&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/Z7OoV8_Dc8Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/warmth-of-sympathy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMBQH8-eyp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-8105705734374728372</id><published>2011-09-05T02:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:04:11.153-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:04:11.153-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Love Your Enemies</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/8105705734374728372?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/8105705734374728372?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/gUMKDontyfs/love-your-enemies.html" title="Love Your Enemies" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4sVwe5xaC9cTuObyWfuw7PKEm1Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4sVwe5xaC9cTuObyWfuw7PKEm1Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4sVwe5xaC9cTuObyWfuw7PKEm1Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4sVwe5xaC9cTuObyWfuw7PKEm1Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;During one of Mr. McKinley’s congressional campaigns he was followed from place to place by a reporter for a paper of the opposite political party. The reporter was one of those shrewd, persistent fellows who are always at work, quick to see an opportunity, and skilled in making the most of it. While Mr. McKinley was annoyed by the misrepresentation to which he was almost daily subjected, he &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/gUMKDontyfs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/love-your-enemies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMFSXk7fip7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-4636891148628953035</id><published>2011-09-05T02:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:03:38.706-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:03:38.706-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Legally Right, Morally Wrong</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4636891148628953035?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4636891148628953035?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/GX9venXOVf8/legally-right-morally-wrong.html" title="Legally Right, Morally Wrong" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8nPK27Bji0G-2z6eu38Qez09R_w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8nPK27Bji0G-2z6eu38Qez09R_w/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8nPK27Bji0G-2z6eu38Qez09R_w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8nPK27Bji0G-2z6eu38Qez09R_w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Each of us has certain legal rights in life. It is our privilege to insist that we enjoy every one of them. But in so doing we may commit moral wrong which would be injurious, not only to others, but also to ourselves and thus rob us of that most essential peace of heart. One of the apartments owned by a Christian landlord is rented by a widow with four children. Month after month, as a result of&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/GX9venXOVf8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/legally-right-morally-wrong.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQMRng4fip7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-1141534416487263685</id><published>2011-09-05T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:03:07.636-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:03:07.636-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>In Honor Preferring One Another</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/1141534416487263685?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/1141534416487263685?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/KKpxgiiEhY8/in-honor-preferring-one-another.html" title="In Honor Preferring One Another" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sCrZz4HoZuTOuyNkuGwKuUbVCOo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sCrZz4HoZuTOuyNkuGwKuUbVCOo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sCrZz4HoZuTOuyNkuGwKuUbVCOo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sCrZz4HoZuTOuyNkuGwKuUbVCOo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;During a spelling contest in which the prize was a fine Bible, the contestants were finally reduced to two—Betty, the daughter of a poor, hard-working widow, and Susan, the daughter of a well-to-do farmer. The sympathy of the school was with the poor girl. Finally Susan misspelled a word, and Betty won the coveted prize. Going home, Susan’s mother said to her daughter, “Couldn’t you have spelled &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/KKpxgiiEhY8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/in-honor-preferring-one-another.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQHSHsycSp7ImA9WhdWEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-8907887638366845028</id><published>2011-09-05T02:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T02:02:19.599-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T02:02:19.599-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Hold My Hand</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/8907887638366845028?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/8907887638366845028?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/pySzpeoxowk/hold-my-hand.html" title="Hold My Hand" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GOdwyCy7f8NwVarKPLl4_Z6hRYs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GOdwyCy7f8NwVarKPLl4_Z6hRYs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GOdwyCy7f8NwVarKPLl4_Z6hRYs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GOdwyCy7f8NwVarKPLl4_Z6hRYs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A young man was on the border of nervous collapse as he lay on the operating table. Among the nurses, he noticed one watching him intently. He thought he knew her and called her to him. “Yes,” she said, “We have met before.” Then he whispered, “Would you mind holding my hand?” She gripped it and he lay calmly waiting for the operation. What a strong thing sentiment is! It can conquer a man’s &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/pySzpeoxowk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/09/hold-my-hand.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04NR3szfip7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-2133619324452323252</id><published>2011-01-20T00:26:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:26:36.586-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:26:36.586-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>He Gave What He Had</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/2133619324452323252?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/2133619324452323252?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/81zRh89dBMo/he-gave-what-he-had.html" title="He Gave What He Had" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gEEfIu-Fk_e9cerJQSpVP-vk0uM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gEEfIu-Fk_e9cerJQSpVP-vk0uM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gEEfIu-Fk_e9cerJQSpVP-vk0uM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gEEfIu-Fk_e9cerJQSpVP-vk0uM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Martin of Tours was a man in whom faith and works combined to make him a true Christian. One day he met a beggar who asked for alms. Martin didn’t have any money, but he saw that the beggar was freezing, so he gave him what he had. He took off his soldier’s overcoat, old and faded as it was, cut it in half, and wrapped half around the beggar. During the night Martin had a dream. He saw heaven &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/81zRh89dBMo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/he-gave-what-he-had.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04DQH8-fCp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-5995525995722662314</id><published>2011-01-20T00:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:26:11.154-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:26:11.154-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Bridge Builders</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/5995525995722662314?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/5995525995722662314?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/t20XMEhYEKc/bridge-builders.html" title="Bridge Builders" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4a2YFgjSGQ5zYbPs0WMu3NiOQxc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4a2YFgjSGQ5zYbPs0WMu3NiOQxc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4a2YFgjSGQ5zYbPs0WMu3NiOQxc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4a2YFgjSGQ5zYbPs0WMu3NiOQxc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The word “pontiff,” used to designate the highest religious order of the Roman Catholic Church, namely the Pope, has an interesting history. This was the name which, in the old pagan religion of ancient Rome, was given to the chief priests. The pontiffs were those who were invested with pontifical power. The name as it was first applied meant “the makers of bridges.” Why it was used to designate &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/t20XMEhYEKc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/bridge-builders.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04GQng_eyp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-5145175640135711131</id><published>2011-01-20T00:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:25:23.643-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:25:23.643-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>More Than Sympathy</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/5145175640135711131?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/5145175640135711131?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/Q0Z2GKea2Ck/more-than-sympathy.html" title="More Than Sympathy" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DZUy8xWLezypDJKoyjjb_Eg0_cg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DZUy8xWLezypDJKoyjjb_Eg0_cg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DZUy8xWLezypDJKoyjjb_Eg0_cg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DZUy8xWLezypDJKoyjjb_Eg0_cg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Queen Victoria was a close friend of Principal and Mrs. Tullock, of St. Andrews. Prince Albert died and Victoria was left alone. Just at the same time, Principal Tullock died and Mrs. Tullock was left alone. Quite unexpectedly, Queen Victoria came to call on Mrs. Tullock when she was resting on a couch in her room. The Queen stepped forward. “My dear,” she said, “don’t rise. I am not coming to &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/Q0Z2GKea2Ck" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/more-than-sympathy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08CSHY_eSp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-4490134502603670543</id><published>2011-01-20T00:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:24:29.841-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:24:29.841-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Be Such a Brother</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4490134502603670543?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/4490134502603670543?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/0vRsEbdGPS8/be-such-brother.html" title="Be Such a Brother" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/58XfUEs-n69l9ctv9LI_W9D5wNc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/58XfUEs-n69l9ctv9LI_W9D5wNc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/58XfUEs-n69l9ctv9LI_W9D5wNc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/58XfUEs-n69l9ctv9LI_W9D5wNc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A well-to-do businessman gave a fine car to his brother. One day when the brother went to the place he’d parked the car, he saw a ragged boy looking the car over with great interest. Instead of saying, “Get away from that car, kid,” he smiled at the youngster. The boy was the first to speak. “Is that car yours, Mister?” “Yes, it is,” was the reply. “What did it cost?” was the next question. “&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/0vRsEbdGPS8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/be-such-brother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ACRnc6fyp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-6431514581651385863</id><published>2011-01-20T00:22:00.004-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:22:47.917-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:22:47.917-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Helping Your Brother</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6431514581651385863?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/6431514581651385863?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/LyiEnhcS-YQ/helping-your-brother.html" title="Helping Your Brother" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I3xao7Brw1oFmpv_cGdL1KP8Gcw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I3xao7Brw1oFmpv_cGdL1KP8Gcw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I3xao7Brw1oFmpv_cGdL1KP8Gcw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I3xao7Brw1oFmpv_cGdL1KP8Gcw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). Concerning this passage, an eloquent preacher of the past wrote: “Many persons are caught with the most superficial contradiction. In the second verse it says, ‘Bear ye one another’s burdens’; and in the fifth it says, ‘Every man shall bear his own burden.’ As if both of them could not be true! As if a man carrying a &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/LyiEnhcS-YQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/helping-your-brother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AAQnw_eSp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-1012604003460925402</id><published>2011-01-20T00:22:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:22:23.241-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:22:23.241-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>An Overcoat of Love</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/1012604003460925402?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/1012604003460925402?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/dKwu4vpucUQ/overcoat-of-love.html" title="An Overcoat of Love" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpfcWjIjaB2q-jkJRy6tuJuWGmw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpfcWjIjaB2q-jkJRy6tuJuWGmw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpfcWjIjaB2q-jkJRy6tuJuWGmw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GpfcWjIjaB2q-jkJRy6tuJuWGmw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I’ve been on both ends of this experience—the receiving and the giving. I remember when I first came to the United States from a warm climate. It was cold and I had no overcoat. How grateful I was to that servant of Christ, Melvin Wampler, who took off his coat and placed it on my shoulders. He went without so that I could be warm. In a similar manner I have often endeavored to do this for others&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/dKwu4vpucUQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/overcoat-of-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AGQX44fyp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-2986753413015659381</id><published>2011-01-20T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:22:00.037-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:22:00.037-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>Burdened for the Lost</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/2986753413015659381?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/2986753413015659381?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/Yj6vhd6w8ro/burdened-for-lost.html" title="Burdened for the Lost" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zg1pzMAFa_aypwieB5PMzefzNA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zg1pzMAFa_aypwieB5PMzefzNA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zg1pzMAFa_aypwieB5PMzefzNA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zg1pzMAFa_aypwieB5PMzefzNA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The St. Bernard dogs in the Alps who seek out travelers lost in a storm take their mission very seriously. One of these dogs returned late one afternoon, wearied from fighting his way through the drifts. He went to his kennel, lay down in a corner, and acted thoroughly despondent, despite the efforts of his master to encourage him. Was he sick? Well, no—not in body, but in heart. He had failed to&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/Yj6vhd6w8ro" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/burdened-for-lost.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ENQ3gzeip7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-9060235359927188001</id><published>2011-01-20T00:21:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:21:32.682-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:21:32.682-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Compassion" /><title>He Gave His Coat</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/9060235359927188001?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/9060235359927188001?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/OupgmOY6nBo/he-gave-his-coat.html" title="He Gave His Coat" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S8Zyw9csnoPjT4rnvwtc4TLIg_U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S8Zyw9csnoPjT4rnvwtc4TLIg_U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S8Zyw9csnoPjT4rnvwtc4TLIg_U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S8Zyw9csnoPjT4rnvwtc4TLIg_U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A young man named John saw some ragged boys and invited them to Sunday school. One boy said he would go, but he had no coat. John gave him his coat and went in with him. Years afterward, a teacher of a Bible class told the story. A man in his class said, “I was that boy, and Dr. John G. Patton, one of the most famous missionaries of the ages, gave me his coat.”om&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/OupgmOY6nBo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/he-gave-his-coat.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ECQXs-eyp7ImA9Wx9WFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-5795820846718679263</id><published>2011-01-20T00:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T00:21:00.553-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T00:21:00.553-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commitmen" /><title>A Committed Servant</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/5795820846718679263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/5795820846718679263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/m2B-lrn159s/committed-servant.html" title="A Committed Servant" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W_MMiMoYXqvE6XP_PICp1JTvbso/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W_MMiMoYXqvE6XP_PICp1JTvbso/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W_MMiMoYXqvE6XP_PICp1JTvbso/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W_MMiMoYXqvE6XP_PICp1JTvbso/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;One of the greatest servants of Christ was Dr. Temple in England. A young clergyman who was being sent by Dr. Temple to a very difficult parish turned to him and said, “Dr. Temple, why do you send me there? Don’t you know how difficult it is? It’ll kill me if I go there.” You know what Dr. Temple’s reply was? “Well, you and I do not mind a little thing like that, do we? If what God has set for us&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/m2B-lrn159s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2011/01/committed-servant.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIMRXkyeCp7ImA9Wx5aGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-540657345788480716</id><published>2010-11-14T23:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:36:24.790-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-14T23:36:24.790-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commitmen" /><title>Take This Poor Indian Too</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/540657345788480716?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/540657345788480716?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/4edjmTGRZ6o/take-this-poor-indian-too.html" title="Take This Poor Indian Too" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3PQzJrHVVTRfJkt0oxyAsJeNZ74/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3PQzJrHVVTRfJkt0oxyAsJeNZ74/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3PQzJrHVVTRfJkt0oxyAsJeNZ74/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3PQzJrHVVTRfJkt0oxyAsJeNZ74/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;An incident is related of a missionary who came into contact with a proud and powerful Indian chief. The chief, trembling under conviction of sin, approached the missionary and offered his belt of wampum as atonement. “No!” said the missionary, “Christ cannot accept a sacrifice like that.” The Indian departed, but soon returned offering his valuable rifle and the most beautiful skins he had taken&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/4edjmTGRZ6o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2010/11/take-this-poor-indian-too.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08MRXw-fyp7ImA9Wx5aGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-274895210746577311</id><published>2010-11-14T23:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:24:44.257-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-14T23:24:44.257-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commitmen" /><title>Willing to Suffer</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/274895210746577311?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/274895210746577311?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/dTWdO6_JCO4/willing-to-suffer.html" title="Willing to Suffer" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3DzklHBZ4Gyi6ZrJSxn5P-MWMxM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3DzklHBZ4Gyi6ZrJSxn5P-MWMxM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3DzklHBZ4Gyi6ZrJSxn5P-MWMxM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3DzklHBZ4Gyi6ZrJSxn5P-MWMxM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A converted native was to be baptized in a river. The missionary took a long spear with him into the swift current to steady himself. Inadvertently he stabbed the foot of the convert beneath the water. The man neither spoke nor moved. After the ceremony when the accident was discovered, the convert was asked why he had kept silent. “I thought it was part of the ceremony,” he replied. In a way he &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/dTWdO6_JCO4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2010/11/willing-to-suffer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08ERX8zfCp7ImA9Wx5aGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-8554248737899745027</id><published>2010-11-14T23:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:23:24.184-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-14T23:23:24.184-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commitmen" /><title>A Willing Sacrifice</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/8554248737899745027?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/8554248737899745027?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/DvjmztnR0fc/willing-sacrifice.html" title="A Willing Sacrifice" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lcx3GA3JEejP7xFZMF3KaKfo6z4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lcx3GA3JEejP7xFZMF3KaKfo6z4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lcx3GA3JEejP7xFZMF3KaKfo6z4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lcx3GA3JEejP7xFZMF3KaKfo6z4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“How much is your salary?” a Muslim asked a mission school teacher who had once followed the crescent instead of the cross. “Five dollars a week,” was the answer. “Why, you could get ten times that in a government school!” “Yes, but I do not teach for money; I teach for God.” “Well—are those all the clothes the missionaries provide? Don’t you have a robe also?” The humble teacher looked down at &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/DvjmztnR0fc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2010/11/willing-sacrifice.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ABR3g6eip7ImA9Wx5aGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-9101681534397272675</id><published>2010-11-14T23:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:22:36.612-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-14T23:22:36.612-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commitmen" /><title>Value of Popularity</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/9101681534397272675?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/9101681534397272675?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/CI1JZCc1GvY/value-of-popularity.html" title="Value of Popularity" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kUToefZxhuqnuVS054J1FBwHt8A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kUToefZxhuqnuVS054J1FBwHt8A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kUToefZxhuqnuVS054J1FBwHt8A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kUToefZxhuqnuVS054J1FBwHt8A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The gatekeeper at the railroad station demanded that everybody present his ticket before going through the gate to the train. From those who could not find their tickets readily there was much grumbling and swearing. One watching the scene said to the gatekeeper, “You don’t seem to be very popular with the crowd.” He cast his eyes upward to the floor above, where the superintendent’s office was, &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/CI1JZCc1GvY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2010/11/value-of-popularity.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EASHg9fCp7ImA9Wx5aGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-903974605625360386</id><published>2010-11-14T23:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:20:49.664-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-14T23:20:49.664-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commitmen" /><title>Courageous Christian</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/903974605625360386?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4590348118242993484/posts/default/903974605625360386?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~3/9JeR4K9kDY4/courageous-christian.html" title="Courageous Christian" /><author><name>Ronaldo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/05OOBSQ53GaBX0JQgFgGVUP7pcI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/05OOBSQ53GaBX0JQgFgGVUP7pcI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/05OOBSQ53GaBX0JQgFgGVUP7pcI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/05OOBSQ53GaBX0JQgFgGVUP7pcI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Chrysostom, the ancient Church Father, was a beautiful example of true Christian courage. When he stood before the Roman Emperor, he was threatened with banishment if he still remained a Christian. Chrysostom replied, “You cannot, for the world is my Father’s house; you cannot banish me.”
“But I will slay you,” said the Emperor.
“No, but you cannot,” said the noble champion of the faith again, “&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SermonIllustration/~4/9JeR4K9kDY4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://sermonsillustration.blogspot.com/2010/11/courageous-christian.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

