Branham Stories
You Couldn't Hit Nothing; I Give Them To You. – God
Down in Shreveport, Louisiana, with a good, old friend of mine, Brother Moore, there was an old, colored brother down there who... He was a nice, old man. His name was Gabriel. They give him... His mother, religious woman, his daddy, they give him the name of Gabriel. But we all called him Gabe, just for short.
And his wife was a staunch Christian, very lovely person. And the pastor of the church was a wonderful brother. And they done everything they could to get old Gabe to get straightened out with God. But Gabe like to shoot dice, and--and he--he just wouldn't get straight with God.
And Gabe liked to hunt, and so did the pastor. And the pastor'd come over, and get Gabe and take him a hunting, and--and so forth. And one day when they'd been hunting, old Gabe was so loaded with game, birds, and rabbits, till he could hardly get them... He even had them over his gun barrel. Coming in, all that he could wag in...
And they were coming around a little certain path. And old Gabe kept noticing back towards the west, and the sun was going down. He's getting up in the years, his fifties. And he kept watching that sun.
The pastor faithfully making his way along the path, both of them with so much game. After while, the pastor felt a hand on his shoulder touching him. Said, "Pastor?"
And he turned around. And Gabe was looking at him, the tears running down his cheeks. He turned again and looked towards the sun. He turned back and said, "Pastor, in the morning, being Sunday morning, I's coming down to the church with my loving wife. I's goin' to go up to the mourner's bench and make my confession. Then I'm going to find me a seat just as close to the front as I can find. There I remain until Jesus comes to get me. I'll live true to God from this day on."
The pastor turned and put his arms around his brother. Said, "Gabe, bless your heart, boy."
Said, "See that sun setting yonder, pastor? My sun's going down too. And something knocked at my heart just a few moments ago."
He said, "What sermon did I preach, Gabe? What message did I preach that you heard, that caused you to turn? Or what hymn did the singers sing that caused you to turn and give your life to the Lord Jesus?"
He said, "Pastor, I've heard you preach a mighty, good sermon many times. I've heard the choirs sing till they looked like they had the anthems of the Angels." He said, "It was all so good." He said, "But that's not what done it, pastor, altogether." Said, "I was coming along here thinking how good He is to me, just how good." He said, "You know, pastor, I--I'm a poor shot." He said, "I couldn't hit nothing. And we was needing food at our house. And just look at all this game that He's give me. Surely He must love me, or He wouldn't do it for me." He said, "I turned around to say, 'Thank you.' And something knocked at my heart and said, 'The sun of your life is going down.'"
He's good to us. Gabe done just what he told the pastor he would do and, as far as I know, he's still a charter member of that Pentecostal body of believers down there. Because he looked out and seen the goodness of God, and something knocked at his heart, and said, "Gabe, I give you them things. You couldn't hit nothing; I give them to you."
I want you to ask tonight, "Who give you your automobile? Who give you that good meal you eat tonight? Who give these nice clothes you're wearing?" How can you turn Him down, when the sun of civilization is setting, the sun of time is setting. Jesus is coming and He's knocking night after night at heart's doors. Won't you open tonight, my poor, dejected friend, and let Him come into you and sup with you, and you with Him? Won't you think about that now while we bow our heads just a moment?"
