(Ice Cream Salvation is a modern day parable. Here, you will see a fictitious earthly story with a heavenly meaning. Here, a young man, we shall call him George, finds Gods Grace, by way of an unusual twist.)
It’s been nine months now, since we lost Mom. The hot sticky summer has suddenly passed into a bone chilling winter. A winter that tends to make you want to snuggle by the fire with a good book. However, the more I try to forget the past, the more those unforgettable memories continue to roll, like a sad movie score. If I could only just get over that “still small voice”. The voice that keeps haunting me, by visiting me in my loneliness.
Yes, those bumps in the road will somehow turn into smooth sailing, in spite of the memories, the voice would lament. Then, this voice would so vividly announce. “Remember that Bible verse. You know Mom’s favorite verse she uses to quote all the time, when things seemed bad”. But, that still small voice would never continued the conversation, by telling me what I need to do or where I need to go, to fine this happiness.
Suddenly one evening, as if a train had hit me, I said to myself,” I know. I’ll go have an ice cream. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. When I was a kid, and yes I was once a kid you know, the ice cream always seemed to fix everything”.
As I entered the Ice Cream Scoop, I observed that all too familiar scene. Mr. Johnson was standing behind the counter, smiling from ear to ear, and wrapped in that big ice cream apron. The one with all 30 flavors of ice cream so artistically displayed. And I joked, as I always do, “That apron will surely wind up in the Smithsonian Institution some day”. I think I’ll have the Raspberry Swirl, Mr. Johnson, and make it a double. Well, George, you must really be depressed, Mr. Johnson said, as he handed me the big cure all ice cream.
Then suddenly, as if I had seen a ghost, some images appear through the front window, half blocked by the frosted snow. Listen, Mr. Johnson, they are singing, what appears to be a Church Hymn. Is it Christmas all ready, I ask myself. It can’t be. Summer has just left us. But why else would this group be singing on a street corner, in this miserable weather? However, as I concentrated on the music, the words became all the more familiar. By golly, it is a hymn and they have brought the church to us.
Suddenly, as if Mom was pulling my ear again, I had an urge to run outside slamming the door behind me. As I left the store, I seemed to be pulled, like a magnet, closer to the singing group. Oh yes, it is cold here. However, the weather did not seem to hinder these happy people.
Something was surely very different, about these people. They were all wearing strange looking uniforms and the ladies were even wearing unique looking bonnets. Why, they even had a small band playing and one man was waving a flag, which read “Blood & Fire”, as they sang the hymns. The group seemed happy and sang like they believed every word of the songs. I’ve heard this hymn before, I said to myself, and I have never felt as these people seem to feel. They had a message and they were going to get it out, regardless of the weather. Then suddenly, I realized where I had seen these people. Why, these are the people, who have those Red Christmas Kettles. But, why are they singing on the street corner? It’s not Christmas.
Then, as the singing ended, the leader of the group opened an old tattered Bible. His words stammered and his speech frosted, due to the frigid cold weather, as he began to read. What’s this! Why its Moms favorite scripture.
“For we know that all things work together for good, to those who are called
according to his purpose”. Romans 8:28
When the man finished reading the Bible, he looked straight at me, and started talking as if he had known me all my life. Then, as if by Divine impulse, the man laid the old drum, that the group used to keep time with the music, down on the sidewalk and ask if anybody would like to kneel and pray with him.
And guess what, that “still small voice” returned to my memory. Only this time, the voice did finish by telling me how I could have a personal relationship with this living GOD, the man had so vividly spoken about.
Suddenly, as the frozen tears stuck to my face, it all came home to me. I then started shouting “Hallelujah”, in my heart, and as by that same Divine uncontrollable impulse, my heart started singing Moms favorite Hymn
“Amazing Grace How Sweet The Sound, That Saved A Wretch Like Me.
I Once Was Lost But Now I’m Found. Was Blind But Now I See”.
Oh yes, what happened to my ice cream, you may ask. Well it melted away, as did my sinful heart. God truly is love and His salvation is surely free. I got a double dip of Gods Grace that day. Unlike the ice cream, this Grace will never melt away.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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