ONE Sunday afternoon, at the hour when a class of young people usually gathered, one young girl only, waited for her teacher. She had been learning during the week the sweet words contained in the 53rd of Isaiah, and as she wended her way to the class, she had been repeating the verses to herself: but they were only to her then as the “very lovely song of one who had a pleasant voice.” She did not know the meaning of “being healed by His stripes.”
After prayer, with which the hour of teaching always began, Mary repeated the first four verses of her chapter. When she reached the fifth verse, “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed,” the tears filled her eyes, and before reaching the end of the verse her head sank down, and the fast falling tears dropped on the open Bible, as she sobbed out,
“It was for me, it was for me.”
The intense solemnity of that moment prevented any other words being spoken.
“Let us thank Him, dear, that it was for you,” and they knelt down. After the teacher had thanked the Lord for opening the blind eyes of her dear scholar to see Jesus as her Substitute, the weeping girl in broken words said,
“Lord Jesus, I thank Thee, that Thou didst die for me, that Thou didst take my punishment,” and then the deep calm of conscious acceptance in the Beloved stole into the broken heart, and peace with God was sweetly realized.
O, dear ones, believe this love that is yearning over you, and say with little Mary,
“It was for me that Jesus died.”
ML 05/29/1927