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Marvelous Love

“May your roots go down deep in to the soil of God’s marvelous love. And

may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how

wide, how long, how high, and how deep His love really is” Ephesians 3:18

(NLT)

On a cold Christmas Eve in 1952, when Korea was in the throes of civil war,

one young woman struggled along a village street, obviously soon to deliver

a child. She pleaded with passersby, “Help me! Please. My baby.”

No one paid any attention to her.

A middle–aged couple walked by. The wife pushed away the young mother

and sneered, “Where’s the father? Where’s your American man now?” The

couple laughed and went on.

The young woman almost doubled up from a contraction as she watched

them go. “Please…” she begged.

She had heard of a missionary living nearby who might help her. Hurriedly,

she began walking to that village. If only he would help her baby. Shivering

and in pain, she struggled over the frozen countryside. But the night was so

cold. Snow began to fall. Realizing that the time was near to deliver her

baby, she took shelter under a bridge. There, alone, her baby was born on

Christmas Eve.

Worried about her newborn son, she took off her own clothes, wrapped

them around the baby and held him close in the warm circle of her arms.

The next day, the missionary braved the new snow to deliver Christmas

packages. As he walked along, he heard the cry of a baby. He followed the

sound to a bridge. Under it, he found a young mother, frozen to death, still

clutching her crying newborn son. The missionary tenderly lifted the baby

out of her arms.

When the baby was 10 years old, his now adoptive father told him the story

of his mother’s death on Christmas Eve. The young boy cried, realizing the

sacrifice his mother had made for him. The next morning, the missionary

rose early to find the boy’s bed empty. Seeing a fresh set of small footprints

in the snow outside, he bundled up warmly in a winter coat and followed

the trail. It led back to the bridge where the young mother had died.

As the missionary approached the bridge, he stopped, stunned. Kneeling in

the snow was his son, naked and shivering uncontrollably. His clothes lay

beside him in a small pile. Moving closer, he heard the boy say through

chattering teeth: “Mother, were you this cold for me?”

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