Welcomed Christ

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.
Revelation 3:20

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But I see her go up, and she looks over there, and she sees Him. “Oh,” she said, “that can’t be. Surely, is that—that must be Him. Well, it is Him. And He’s got… He’s not welcome. He—He’s got dirty feet. And He’s unanointed, and nobody’s paying any attention to Him.” She said, “It’s, surely, somebody’s got to do something.”

And I see her pull her—her little shawl up around her, and down the street she goes as hard as she can. She goes up in the little old creaky steps up into her little room, and she goes into a little chest, and gets out her little sock, or something there with some money in it. And she said—she said, “No, no, no I—I can’t do this. I can’t do it.” And she starts weeping; she said, “Oh, those eyes, how He looked over at me.”

Nobody could ever look at Jesus and ever be the same. She said it, “I must be beside myself. Look. I know He’s a Prophet, and He’d know where I got this money. He’d know how I got it. I can’t take this to Him. I just can’t do it.”

She puts it back; she’s weeping, said, “Oh, think of it. Oh He… Nobody wants Him. Oh, I’ve got to do something about it.” And she takes her little sock out again, her little chest, and she looks at it, and she said, “Oh, surely, but it—it’s all I got. It’s all I can do. Surely He will understand.”

And I see her tuck her little money down in her bosom, and throw her shawl over her, and down the street she goes; and she goes into a little Jew store down there where they’re selling some spikenard and stuff in a perfume shop. And she goes in, and some old fellow setting back there, grouchy, counting out his money, “My, it’s been a bad day. Didn’t hardly make the rent.” Oh, my.

And the first thing you know, this prostitute walks in.

“Well, look what come in.” He didn’t go out as a polite salesman, or gentleman should be, and say, “What could I do for you?” He said, “Well, what do you want?”

She said, “Sir, I want the best alabaster box you got in the house, not just one, I want the best.”

Look, she was giving everything she had, every penny; she had to give the best she could. You and I, we just give a little side thing. Are you giving your best? If you’re not giving your best, don’t make fun of her. She was giving her best in her oil she had.

She said, “I want the best alabaster box you got of ointment.”

“Well,” he said, “let’s see how much money you got?” Of course, the clink of the money changed his—his idea. He counted out two hundred and eighty pieces of Roman denarii, and just—just enough, he gives her the alabaster box. He noticed she had been weeping. Her eyes were stained. She dumps it in her bosom; she takes out the door.

Somebody nudges, “Look, going there, Look, going there.” That’s the way they do today. Nudge, nudge, “Look at there; that’s a holy-roller. Look, going there. You know you they are? They’re one of them. That’s one of them gang.” Oh, I’m so glad to be one of them; I don’t know what to do. Yes, sir.

“There they go. Look where she’s going to now, and she’s been weeping. Oh, she’s one of them fanatics. Look where she’s going, right straight up to where they’re at.”

There she goes up. She’s late. She’s got to hurry. But brother, it’s better late than never. You may wait a long time, dad; you may be sixty or seventy years old, but it’s better to be late—be late than never get there. Come on now.

You said, “Oh, well, I want to get the Holy Ghost sometime, Brother Branham.” Right now.

You say, “Well, I’m getting pretty old now; I couldn’t be much service.” Get It anyhow, better late than never.

She got there. And when she gets there, all the party… She knows she was at the right place, the glasses was tipping together, and the big hoorays, and times of the wine being poured out, and everything. She knowed she was at the right place. Now she tipped on her toes, and she looks back there, and there she sees Him setting.

She said, “I can’t. It—it must be… If they catch me in there, what will they do? I’d be out of place if I go in there. If I’d get into that kind of a group in there, I’ll be out of place, a person like me. Well, they’ll—they’ll throw me out. I—I can’t go… Maybe He wouldn’t want me to do it. I must be dreaming. There must be something wrong,” the tears running down her cheeks. She said, “But one time I heard Him preaching, and He preached on this, ‘Come unto Me, all ye that labor and heavy laden and I will give you rest. Whosoever will let him come.’ Surely, He meant me.”

Then I see her duck her head, and elbow her way through the crowd. She’s trying to get to Him. That’s the way to do. Elbow your way through the crowd till you get to Him, no matter who says, “Days of miracles is past. There ain’t no such a thing as Divine healing. No such a thing as heartfelt salvation.” Elbow your way. Get right through the crowd. You don’t care what the people says; get to Jesus. That’s the only Fountain of salvation she had. The only Fountain you’ve got, only Fountain anybody’s got, is make your way to Jesus. If you have to elbow your way through every denomination and everything else, get to Him, quickly.

Oh, my. She got beside of Him, and she… There set Jesus. She took a hold of His… She didn’t know what to do. She fell down before Him; she was weeping. The tears was a rolling down her cheeks and off her chin. And the first thing you know, she picked up His feet, and she begin to rub His feet. She was so happy. She was standing by the Fountain. She was standing by the only cleansing place that her soul could ever be cleansed. She was standing by the only Fountain of Life that ever sprung up in the earth.

There she was in her condition. She was rubbing His feet. And the first thing you know, she—she got beside herself. She didn’t know what to do—she was doing. And she was crying, the tears running off her cheeks, and she was rubbing His feet, and she found herself washing Jesus’ dirty feet with her tears. What a water, and washing Jésus’ dirty feet with her tears. The greatest water that ever come, the tears of a penitent sinner, washing the feet of the Lord Jesus.

As she wept, and she was washing His feet, she—she was beside herself. She didn’t know what to do. God help us to get beside ourself long enough to get saved anyhow.

Sure she broke all of the rules of the party. What was the party taking place now? What do we care what the party was doing, how many rules she broke? She was getting before Jesus and getting saved. And that’s what we need to do tonight is to get before Jesus and get saved.

No matter what you’re breaking the rules, or the regulations, that has nothing to do with it. The thing of it is, is get before Jesus. And she was washing His feet with her tears, and she was… First thing you know, she was so excited she started to raise up and all of her hair, that she had pinned up on her head, fell down. And she begin to wipe His feet with her—with the hairs of her head.

It’ll be a hard time for a lot our Christians sisters to do that: have to stand on their head to do it; they ain’t got enough hair to wipe His feet with their hair. That’s right. I don’t say that for a joke. But let me tell you something. The Bible said, “A woman’s hair is her glory.” Yes, sir.

Look what a beautiful place it fit there. Her tears of repenting, she was washing His feet. And the only decent thing she had about her was her hair. And her glory fell down. Hallelujah. Her glory, she was wiping Jesus’ feet with her glory. Hallelujah.

God, let me with everything I am to wipe His feet, wash His feet, worship Him in the Spirit, do everything I can to make Him welcome in my heart, saying, “Dear Lord Jesus, here take me and make me Yours.”

She was wiping His feet with her hairs of her head. And the first thing you know she found herself [Brother Branham makes kissing sounds—Ed.] kissing His feet. And I tell you, Pharisee Jones turned white and then red. The devil really took a hold of him. I can see him [Brother Branham makes a sound in his throat three times] Oh, what a rage he was. Breaking up his party, it would ruin his church.

“The Unwelcomed Christ”, 55-1002, William M. Branham

Who am I anyway?
I’m just a little lump of clay,
And if my strength is to no avail,
Yet it doesn’t mean that I have failed,
For when I’m weak Lord, You’re made strong,
So there is nothing going wrong,
You’ve brought me to that place,
Right where I belong.

CHORUS
Right where I belong,
Your grace and Your love through the years
Have brought me along,
Who am I, who am I?
That You’ve taken me from the pit,
To heavenly places with You I sit,
You’ve brought me to that place,
Right where I belong.

Who am I? Lord consider me,
I’m just a little lump of vanity,
Like a flower that blooms and fades away,
Its mortal life withers every day.
But Lord, You’ve given me eternal life:
You’ve even called me Your virtuous wife;
You’ve brought me to a place,
Right where I belong.

Who am I? Lord let me die,
Just let Your Name be glorified,
At Your service Lord, here I stand,
Your wish, oh Lord is my command;
For You died to set me free,
And You did it so willingly,
To bring me to this place,
Right where I belong.

“Right Where I Belong”, Ulric Andrews

Also inspired by a song “Unworthy” (https://youtu.be/YE0yKncHkME) written by Elizabeth Bishop