Following right behind Mr. White was Mr. Red and Mr. Yellow Convertible. Mr. white was so in love with himself that he didn't even see the other two convertibles. Mr.White was singing his song about how wonderful he was when all of a sudden, he missed the turn in the road and crashed right into a telephone pole.
Mr. Red drove up quickly to see if there was anything he could do to help. "Mr. White, convertible you are a wreck! Can I do anything to help you?"
"Me, a wreck. How can you ever say that. I am the most beautiful, handsome, smartest, fastest convertible on the the road. There is no other convertible like me. I don't need your help" said Mr. white proudly.
"But, but... Mr. White you are a mess. You need help!" Mr Red tried to tell him, but Mr. White just wouldn't listen, so Mr. Red drove off and left Mr. White convertibles singing his song wrapped around a telephone post.
Later, Mr. Yellow convertible drove up to see if he could help. "Mr White convertible, what happened to you? You are a wreck!"
"I don't need your help thank you. I am doing just fine."
"But...but.. you don't understand!".
But, nothing Mr. Yellow convertible. You are just jealous because you aren't as handsome as I am."
Boys and girls,have you ever thought you didn't need any help? That you could do everything all by yourself? Or that you are the prettiest, most handsome, and smartest person in the whole world?
Have you ever thought, that you didn't want anyone telling you what to do? If you have, that is called pride, and you will be heading for the junk yard. You weren't created for the junk yard. You were created to know and to love your Creator, the Lord Jesus.
When you ask Jesus to live in your heart, He will make sure that you never will go to the junk yard. In His Kingdom there is NO PRIDE, because there is only one person who is the greatest and that is JESUS. He loves you and wants you to live with Him. Why don't you ask your mommy or daddy about Jesus and how He can live in your heart. You don't want to be a Mr. White Convertible.
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