I believe in miracles.
You know that I believe in miracles, too.
But I believe in miracles because I believe
in God.
And there is no greater miracle than that
new birth.
I would give anything in the world if
just now I had the vocabulary to tell
you what it's really like to be born.
But it's something that's spiritual.
It's something that you have to experience yourself.
I had taken the plane from San Francisco
and was flying to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
And on that same plane were some Korean
children who had been adopted by American parents.
Oh, I would say there must have been
about seven, eight, maybe nine.
The dearest Korean children you ever saw in
your life.
They were dolls.
I should like to have had any one
of them, or all of them.
I think the youngest must have been a
baby about eight months old.
Maybe a little younger, but not much.
And the oldest was seven years of age.
The little seven-year-old had a sister
four years of age.
They were the sweetest.
And when we got to Chicago, the stewardess
said, now we'll wait until all the other
passengers are off the plane, and then we'll
take the children off so there will not
be any confusion.
She said, the men and women who have
adopted these Korean children will be waiting at
the gate for them.
And I said, have they seen the children
they have adopted?
No.
No, she said.
They have never seen the children.
They have no idea what they're receiving.
And she said they've already been adopted and
we're so thrilled for the children.
And so I waited.
Because, you see, I would fly on to
Pittsburgh on the same plane.
And when everyone else had deplaned the missionary
picked up the baby in his arms.
He carried her.
The stewardess took a couple.
I took the sisters.
The little seven-year-old and the little
four-year-old by the hand.
And we walked down the ramp.
I shall never forget.
It was a sight that no artist's brush
could ever do justice to.
It was something that the greatest artist in
the world could never paint.
As these men and women who had adopted
these Korean children were standing at the gate,
looking, looking, waiting, some smiling, some
without any expression on their faces whatsoever.
The expectancy on the faces of others.
And here we came with the children.
And the missionary stood there and he had
cards and he'd call out, Mr. and Mrs.
So-and-so.
And a man would say, Here!
And the first one was the baby.
And tenderly he took the baby and handed
it over to the man who was to
be her new daddy.
And the baby just nestled in his arms.
And the first thing she did was to
pull at his coat lapel, looking up into
his face.
And he smiled into her face.
And then the missionary called out, Mr. and
Mrs. So-and-so.
And someone else would say, Here!
And then he'd say, This is...
And then came the moment when he called
the name of a Mr. and Mrs. Somebody
else.
And they both said, Here!
He said, The sisters are yours.
And I was standing there with a little
seven-year-old by the hand and a
little four-year-old.
And the man who had said, Here!
looked at me and he said, Katherine Goldman.
I didn't know for a minute but he
thought he was adopting me.
He said, Where'd you come from?
Well, I said, I was just on the
plane.
And here they are.
The wife took the younger of the two
sisters and kissed her.
Loved her.
And the man stooped down to kiss the
seven-year-old sister when suddenly, without warning,
she began to cry.
She became hysterical.
That cry haunted me for days and days.
In the night, in the stillness of the
night, I could hear that child screaming.
There was no expression on her face whatsoever
and the great tears would just roll down
her cheeks.
And she stiffened.
I did the only thing that I knew
what to do.
I put my arms around her.
Before I knew it, the only words that
would come forth would be, If you only
knew, God, if you only...
That was all I could say.
It was the second time in my whole
life that I ever had an experience like
that.
The time before was when Mama died.
And I went to the phone to call
my oldest sister to tell her that Mama
had...
And when she said, Hello, nothing would come
forth.
Nothing.
No words would come out.
I was absolutely...
And in this moment, that crying Korean child,
all I could say to her, If you
only knew, honey, if you only knew...
And the whole time I was thinking, Honey,
if you only knew, you'll never be hungry
again.
Never.
If you only knew, you'll be loved all
of your life.
If you only knew you're in America now.
You're in America now.
There'll always be little shoes on your feet.
There'll always be clothes on your body.
You'll always be warm.
There'll be a nice clean bed to sleep
in.
You won't be hungry anymore.
But I forgot the language barrier.
I couldn't understand what I was saying.
But that time they were calling my plane
and I had to go.
And she was standing there still crying bitterly.
Hysterical.
And they couldn't move her.
Only God knows the memories of that childhood.
She was old enough, seven.
Little do I know what her memories were.
Yet she didn't know what was going to
happen next.
Only God knows what she'd been through.
And I had to leave her.
And I rushed away.
And then I couldn't.
They were holding the door of his plane
for me.
I came back just once more.
And I took her in my arms.
And even though she couldn't understand what I
was saying, I wanted her to feel my
love.
Maybe that would help.
And I hugged her close.
And I ran to catch the plane before
they closed the door.
My last words were, If you only...
In this moment, I feel just that helpless.
Insane to you who've never been born again.
Those of you who have never accepted Christ
as your Savior.
If you only knew.
Don't you realize that life really doesn't hold
a real meaning?
For that somebody who's never been born again.
Not really.
That's the reason you're so restless.
There's no real purpose.
Not really.
If you've never been born again.
Do you know what it really means to
be born again?
Do you really mean?
It means that in accepting Jesus Christ as
your personal Savior, His blood blots out your
every transgression.
And you stand justified before Him by faith.
But that's such a small part of it
all.
Really.
In that moment, the One who is now
the great Creator.
And that's one thing we all have in
common.
God is our Creator.
But He does not become your Heavenly Father
until you accept His Son as your personal
Savior.
And in that moment, when you accept Jesus
and accept what Jesus has done for you
and accept the part of Him, it's a
personal transaction.
It's then that the great Creator becomes your
Heavenly Father.
If you only knew.
If you only knew what it really means
to be able to look up in the
midnight hour.
That relationship.
It's a personal relationship.
It's a relationship that is unlike any other
relationship.
Oh, that security.
I feel I could go through anything.
I tell you the truth.
So believe me.
I could go through anything as long as
I know that He is my Heavenly Father,
loving me, caring me.
I'm in the hollow of His hand.
I'm overshadowed with His love.
Life holds meaning for me.
I have a purpose in living.
I have a purpose.
If only you knew what it means to
have the peace of God in your heart
when you come to that loss.
And I don't believe that I have ever,
in any of our heart-to-heart talks,
talked to you about that loss when the
old heart takes us.
That day without its tomorrow.
And that's one thing we all have in
common, whether you're rich or whether you're poor,
regardless of race, regardless of your status in
life.
That's one thing we have in common.
Know that.
You may not want to think about it.
You would rather that we didn't talk about
it.
You'd rather just act as though it wasn't
going to happen.
It will happen.
As surely as the old heart is beating
now, there's coming a day when that old
heart is going to take us alive if
you only knew how wonderful it is to
have the peace of God.
The other day I was at the cemetery.
One of my ushers had gone home to
glory.
I'd never had an experience quite like it.
The family was seated there in front of
me.
Friends were there.
Those who had carried his body so tenderly
to the cemetery were standing there.
I had taken the roses and began picking
the petals and they'd fallen into the open
grave.
And I've said ashes to ashes and dust
to dust.
You've heard it over and over again.
But in that moment there was the glorious
presence of Jesus.
And I knew it wasn't death.
This isn't death.
Death is glory.
It isn't dark.
It isn't stumbling, groping, or even faith.
It isn't grief.
It's having my last tear wiped away.
It's sunrise.
It's morning of my eternal day.
It isn't even praying.
It's speaking of faith and it's glimpsing the
wonders of love.
This is the end of pleading.
Pleading for strength to bear my pain.
Not even pain's dark memory will ever live
again.
How did I bear the earth life before
I came up high, before my soul was
granted its every deep desire, before I knew
this rapture of meeting face to face, the
one who sought me, saved me.
I stood there and read it, that glorious
portion of the Word of God.
I would not have you to be ignorant,
brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that he
sorrow not even as others which have no
hope.
For if we believe that Jesus died and
rose again, even so them also which sleep
in Jesus will God bring with him.
For this we say unto you by the
word of the Lord, that we which are
alive and remain unto the coming of the
Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep.
For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven
with a shout, with the voice of the
archangel, and with the trump of God, and
the dead in Christ shall rise first.
And we which are alive and remain shall
be caught up together with them in the
clouds to meet the Lord in the air,
and so shall we ever be with.
Wherefore, comfort one another.
And when I had finished reading the Scripture
and the service was over, no one knew,
only to have that glorious hope, to
know that death does not end.
I stood there a few moments, there was
no yesterday, there was no weeping, and
yet there sat, composed, but with a faith,
with a confidence, with a Christian experience, there
sat the three grown sons.
There was no hysteria, there was confidence, there
was faith.
The service, the cemetery was over, and yet
no one moved.
And I did something, the most natural thing
in the world.
There was one empty seat next to one
of the daughter-in-laws, and I walked
over and sat down.
We sat there, and I said, you know,
I guess we're just waiting for the trump
of the Lord to sound.
I guess we're just waiting for that glorious
resurrection morn, that moment when resurrection life flows
through that body and the dead in Christ
shall be raised, even the likeness of the
body of our risen Christ.
And the Bible tells us this is real.
This is as real as God Himself.
This is as real as life.
Believe me, death does not end at all.
I give you His Word, the highest authority
in heaven and earth, and you can stake
your very life on thus saith the Lord.
Death does not end at all.
It's just the beginning.
The rest of the book is real.
It's having your last tears.
This isn't death.
This is the end of pleading.
This is the end of suffering.
It's the end of heartbreak.
It's the end of disappointment, if you only
knew.
If only I could do to you just
now the same thing that I did to
the little Korean girl.
Put my arms around you, whether you're ninety
-one or whether you're nine.
Whether you're in the springtime of youth or
whether the hands are so worn with the
toil of the weary day and the hair
is turned to silver and you're so unsure
and you're so uncertain about that day without
its tomorrow.
If only you knew how wonderful it is
to have that security in Christ Jesus, to
have the peace, to know that God is
your Heavenly Father.
It's only the end of faith.
Faith becomes a reality.
It's the end of hope.
Then I can look up and say, Oh,
faith, you've stood by me so many times.
I don't know what I would have done
without you.
But in that moment, faith becomes a reality.
I say, hope you've been so wonderful.
You put stars in blackened skies.
You put doors in blank walls.
But I won't be needing them anymore, faith.
But love, love I take with me.
For in that moment, for the first time,
I will know you only
live.
I have neither half my faith, neither has
it entered into the mind of any human
being.
The wonders and the glory and the beauty
of all that God has given only to
only I.
Father God.