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Nailing My Sins To His cross

That day when they crucified my Saviour, He was willing to pay all the cost.  When they drove the nails through His body, they were nailing my sins to His cross. Oh the shame of it, my sins crucified Him that day, my sins were to blame.  Forgive me Lord I pray, I will live so the world can know that I love You for nailing my sins to the cross. Although this was centuries ago now, and I was not even living at all, The Bible says Jesus died for all sinners.  This includes me, Oh praise His dear name.  Thank you Jesus!
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Very Interesting

WHY MEN ARE NEVER DEPRESSED: Men Are Just Happier People- Your last name stays put. The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. You can never be pregnant. Car mechanics tell you the truth. The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another petrol station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt. Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet. One mood all the time. Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks and engines. A five-day holiday requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. Your underwear is £8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You never have strap problems in public. You are unable to ...
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God's Image in You... Priceless!‏ By Robert A. Schuller "God said, 'Now we will make humans, and they will be like us. We will let them rule the fish, the birds, and all other living creatures.'" - Genesis 1:26 (CEV) A speaker began his seminar by holding up a twenty-dollar bill and asking who in the room would like it. Of course, nearly every hand went up. "I'm going to give this to one of you as soon as I do this..." he said - whereupon he wadded the bill into a tiny ball and rolled it around between his palms. "Anybody still want it now?" he asked. The same hands went up. "Okay, what if I do this?" he asked, dropping the wadded-up bill on the floor and stomping on it with his shoe and grinding it into the carpet. "Anybody still want this badly treated twenty-dollar bill now?" he asked. Again, all the hands went up. The speaker's point quickly became obvious. The value of the twenty-dollar bill was not dependent on...
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