A man walked up to the gate of a beautiful villa sitting on 10 acres of land. It was a few minutes after midnight. He rang the bell.
“Who's there?” a voice buzzed over the intercom.
“My name is Jimmy. I'm a good man in this community. I voted the right mayor. I earn a decent income by working in the city hall and give half of my salary to the poor.”
'”Sorry we don't know you,” came the reply from the intercom.
Four hours later, a drunk guy stumbled onto the gate of the villa and rang the bell almost as an afterthought. He had been at a sexual orgy where he had lost his wallet. He didn't know where he had left his car. And he was wishing his phone had not been stolen. He would have called that first gal he'd had sex with first thing in the morning for a second round.
He rang the bell again before falling into a messy heap in his own vomit and urine.
“Who's there?” the intercom buzzed.
“Paul,” the drunk guy said, his speech slurred.
Suddenly, the gate slid open.
It so happened, Paul was the son of the master of the villa.
How are you acting before God? are you like Jimmy, the good stranger, or Paul, the son, however bad he was? do you know that a stranger, however good, will never get the inheritance of the son, however bad the son is? isn't that the beauty of grace, and grace alone?
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i love you!