"I don't want to be a Christian," I said. "Why, I'd be obliged to give up everything that makes life pleasant. I'd have to go about with a long face all the rest of my days! No, thank you! I am very happy as I am.”
I turned away from the very pleading face of my sister, and banished the disagreeable thought from my mind. But oh, how little I then knew, how little I realized what an awful sin I was committing in deliberately refusing to listen to God's message of salvation!
I was determined to go on as I was. Why should I give up the world at nineteen? I had all that any girl could desire—a happy home, plenty of friends, and dances and parties without number. If I became a Christian, I should have to relinquish these pleasures, so of course it was absurd to think of it!
Just about this time some gospel meetings were being held at the Assembly Rooms, where crowds attended each day. I heard of one or two "conversions" among the young girls of my crowd; but when I was told of the wonderful change that had come over these gay worldlings, I laughed at the idea, prophesying that "it would soon wear off!”
"Won't you come and hear for yourself?" entreated my sister. "It can do you no harm to go for once.”
I steadily refused, and plunged deeper than ever into a whirl of gaiety. One day, however, my mother asked me to take a note to the house of a friend who lived close by. "I think you may have to wait for an answer," she said, as she sealed and handed it to me.
At first I rebelled. I knew the lady to whom the letter was addressed was one of those religious ones whom I dreaded to encounter. At length I consented to go, determining in my own mind, to let her see that I had no intention of being spoken to about my soul, should she attempt to broach the subject. So, feeling very grand and superior, I set off.
"Yes," said the maid, "Mrs. C—is at home. Will you please walk upstairs?" I followed the girl, inwardly resolving to "hold my own," whatever happened.
To my horror, when we reached the drawing room, I found myself in the midst of one of the dreaded "meetings" I had heard so much about. As I entered, there was a look of surprise on the faces of all the occupants of that room. This brought the hot blood with a rush to my cheeks. My mother's friend rose to greet me, and in her gentle way motioned me to a seat near the door. As I sat down the meeting continued as before.
I shall never forget my feelings as I sat there! Fear and indignation strove for the mastery. I saw it all! I had fallen unsuspectingly into the trap that had been laid for me by my mother and her friend. Now there was no escape.
Gradually the words that were being spoken forced themselves on my attention. Curiously, and critically, I listened, wondering what there could be in that dry and uninteresting book to light up the faces of one and all. Then, somewhat bored with listening to what was so much Greek to me, I set to planning how best I could slip out of the door and run downstairs without being noticed.
Prayers followed, and several of those present pleaded with God for "the one outside the fold." They entreated the Lord not to let me leave the room without a blessing.
Oh, how wonderfully He answered that prayer! Deeper and deeper those words sank into my wretched, sinful heart. I felt as I knelt there that a holy God was searching me, through and through. All my sins like a great wave came sweeping over me, burying me in the depths. What had my heedless heart been doing? How had I dared to turn away from God who was at this moment reading my very soul?
Terrified, I rose from my knees. I stood watching as all the others except my mother's friend quietly left the room. She came across to me, and asked me that question I had always dreaded: "Are you saved?”
"No," I answered abruptly and bluntly.
"Do you want to be?”
For a moment I hesitated. Then, "I am too wicked," I cried falteringly. "Oh, you don't know what I am, and all the dreadful things I have done." Now I was battling with the great choking sobs that would come, in spite of my efforts to keep them back.
"Never mind what you have been, or what you have done, child," was the quiet rejoinder. "If you know yourself to be a sinner, just listen to what God says to you.”
Opening her Bible she read: "When we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly." Rom. 5:66For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. (Romans 5:6).
"But," I said doubtfully, "how can I know that was meant for me? How can I know God wants me?”
My companion did not answer, but turned again to her Bible. From the last chapter of Revelation she read this verse: "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.”
"Now," she said, "do you suppose God has left you out in that 'whosoever'?”
"No," I answered slowly, while the wonderful truth began to dawn across my mind.
"Then if you believe it was for you as well as for the rest of the world that Christ died, you are saved. 'Verily, verily I say unto you, he that heareth My word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.'" John 5:2424Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life. (John 5:24).
I needed no more! I saw it all so clearly, and a joy I had never known before, even when I had imagined my happiness complete, flooded my whole being. Oh, the wonderful grace of God to a wretched sinner like me!
I had entered that room, proud, rebellious, stiff-necked; I left it humbled and broken down by the glimpse I had had of the love of Christ which led Him to lay down His life for me. From that moment I believe the current of my life was changed.
"Old things passed away, and all things became new." With a sort of repulsion I turned from all I had once imagined was "happiness." Nothing but the grace of God could have made me do this. Good resolutions, and "turning over new leaves" would have been worse than futile. There was no question of "giving up" this thing or the other. Christ entered my heart and all else sank into utter insignificance. Gladly I rested in that great love, the length, breadth, depth and height of which no mortal can fathom.