Fasting, alone in the desert, Tell of the days that He passed, How for our sins He was tempted, yet was triumphant at last; Tell of the years of His labor, Tell of the sorrow He bore, He was despised and afflicted, Homeless, rejected, and poor.
Tell of the cross where they nailed Him, Writhing in anguish and pain; Tell of the grave where they laid Him, Tell how He liveth again; Love in that story so tender, Clearer than ever I see; Stay, let me weep while you whisper, Love paid the ransom for me. Frances J. Crosby, 1880
God is Love. Our world is starving for Love. The evidence is seen in every immoral act committed. That's why we must tell the story(the best way you know how). Deep down inside every person, God has planted a thirst for Himself that is never satisfied until we are united with Him. 1 John 4:8