The new preacher was having his hair cut one morning. Suddenly conscious of the conversation going on in the shop, he overheard one barber say to another, “Old Jud’s day is about done.”
“Yes,” added the other barber, “I was out there Monday to shave him, and he is in bad shape.”
Continued talk told the silent listener that the dying “Jud” was old and evil. He had been raised in a Christian home, but, wandering away into temptation, he had chosen evil and sin. From that time Jud had been a leader in wickedness. His reputation had been bad enough to attach a bad name to the whole town itself, though others were no better.
God’s longsuffering had provided that this wicked life should not end before a preacher had come to this town. In the few months the preacher had now been there Jud had never spoken to him, but he had come to know him by sight. Strangely, the wicked old man had spoken no ill of the preacher. On his part, the preacher could only remember seeing Jud as a broken old man in a worn and ragged coat wandering about the town. He identified him only by a chance remark of someone saying, “There goes old Jud.”
“His day is about done.” The words sank into the heart of the preacher. His day of grace, his opportunity to repent, his time for salvation, his chance of heaven—all so soon to be over. “His day is about done.” The words could not be forgotten. Pity and concern for the old man said, “Go and see him.”
A short walk brought the preacher to the door of the charitable family who sheltered old Jud. Inquiry about the condition of the ailing man received a courteous reply, but no invitation to see Jud.
After a reasonable wait the preacher asked to see Jud. “It won’t do any good to talk with him,” he was told. “He is too far gone. He doesn’t want to see anybody.” The caller persisted and finally was directed to the screened rear of the house where the poor old man sat for air.
Poor old Jud was the picture of misery. Propped in a big chair, his flushed face, labored breathing, bulging eyes, purple hands and swollen feet all betrayed the failing effort of a feeble heart to maintain life. As the preacher came close, he was recognized. In a surging agony of soul old Jud commanded, “Go ’way! I’m going to hell—and I deserve to go.”
Never could well-intentioned pity be more taken aback. This family wanted the caller to stay away, and so did the sick man. But God’s messenger spoke quietly of God’s Word concerning mercy to sinners. Always he met the same answer: “Go ’way; go ’way! I’m going to hell—and I deserve to go!”
Finally, feeling that he had accomplished nothing but rather alienated himself and his work from the family and their friends in the community, the preacher returned home. However, his sense of responsibility constantly grew. The unforgettable, “His day is about done,” brought him a second time to see old Jud. Again the interview was unsatisfactory. The same hoarse, roaring command to “go ’way” met the Christian. Baffled, he returned home to pray.
“Get Jud to pray,” became the inner urge of the Spirit of God, repeated over and over. So again the step of the preacher awakened the attention of the sick old fellow at an earlier hour than usual.
“I came to get you to pray,” said the preacher.
“I can’t pray” was the positive answer, and no amount of urging nor argument nor example was availing. The preacher finally concluded that the hardened, rebellious sinner really could not pray.
Still the feeling of responsibility deepened in the preacher’s heart. In spite of the loudly voiced conviction in the community that he was “dogging the old man to death,” his urging was, “Get him to pray. Make every effort to get him to pray.”
On his next call the preacher stated firmly, “I came again to get you to pray; indeed, I came to make you pray.”
The usual refusal, only feebler, arose.
“You must pray. Pray this prayer: ‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’”
“God have mercy!” the poor breathless soul cried, shortening even so short a prayer in his earnest cry to God.
Did Jesus hear? The preacher records: “I saw those eyes, bulging with terror, settle to their place. I heard those lips pour out in hoarse whispers volumes of confession and pleading for mercy and praise for forgiveness. I saw the peace of God which passes all understanding come over that straining, marred face, and a quiet beauty remains in my amazed memory of my last look on the peaceful face of that newborn soul.”
The preacher, seeing how old Jud was now alone with Jesus, slipped out and went his way. Later he learned that for hours with hardly a pause the prayers and pleadings and praise continued, and Jud’s day on earth was truly done—but his new day with his Saviour was just begun!