I’ll Take Him
March 24, 2012 — by David H. Roper
Years ago, when I was a student at the University of California at Berkeley, I developed a friendship with a fellow student who had suffered a terrible loss. His child had died and his wife had left him because she couldn't’t deal with the pain.
One day, as my friend and I were walking down the street, we found ourselves behind a disheveled mother with a grubby little boy in hand. She was angry at the child and was walking much too fast, towing him at a pace his little legs couldn't’t maintain.
We reached a busy intersection where the child abruptly stopped and his hand slipped out of his mother’s grasp. She turned around, spat out a curse, and trudged on. The little boy sat down on the curb and burst into tears. Without a moment’s hesitation, my friend sat down next to him and gathered the little guy in his arms.
The woman turned and, looking at the child, began to curse again. My friend sighed and looked up. “Lady,” he said softly, “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
Jesus will take us! He stretched out his arms and died for me.